


It’s a Deal.

by Alyeska_Writes



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: A whole year later and tagging is still a nightmare, But mostly fluff, But they don’t know it, Carl Adopted all the babies, Connor is Awkward, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gavin is a douchebag convince me otherwise, I am ConNorth trash and I’m not even sorry, Idiots in Love, North Is A Queen, RK990 is Seamus don’t @ me, The epilogue is going to be slice of life again let me LIVE MOM, This is once again just the movie in fic form but with Connor and North, Threats of Deportation, and humour, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-06-03 14:16:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19465720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyeska_Writes/pseuds/Alyeska_Writes
Summary: To avoid being deported back to Canada, North comes up with a plan. Connor is less than appreciative.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’m back on my shit, y’all. A year later and I realize that this fits ConNorth more than it could ever fit RK1000 *dab*
> 
> A lot of it is going to remain the same and I’m not even sorry.

It’s rare that Connor wakes up like this. The sun shining on his face, feeling well-rested, like he actually got a good night’s sleep. Usually he’s up at the crack of dawn, going to get coffee for his boss and glaring at the sunrise from his desk between answering phones and drafting emails. In fact, workaholic though he may be (his younger brother’s words, not his), he was bemoaning the fact last night, when it was one in the morning and he couldn’t sleep and he had to get up within the next four hours—

Wait a minute.

No, oh, no, _no!_

A quick glance at his clock lets him know that there must’ve been a brownout or something in the night. The numbers blink cheekily back at him as his mind attempts to catch up with the rest of him. He blinks the sleep out of his eyes, gazing blearily at the hands on his watchface.

“ _Shit!_ ”

Oh, God, he’s so _late!_

If he skips a shower and skips gelling his hair, much to his chagrin, he might just be able to make it to the office before his boss, right?

God, he hopes so.

He stubs his toe getting dressed. He gets his damn tie stuck in the door. It’s just gonna be one of those days, isn’t it? Of course it is. Because as soon as he steps into the regular coffee shop, he finds the line is nearly out the door.

_‘Ah, anxiety, my old friend.’_

His only saving grace is the barista waving him over, two lattes already made and still piping hot, thank _God_.

“You literally saved my life.” he tells her. “I really owe you one.” he also really has to motor, so he tosses the cash on the counter, calling, “keep the change!” over his shoulder as he sprints back out the front door.

Really, he should find it pathetic that he lives so close to his place of work, but seeing as how he has no car, can’t quite afford to get a car, and can’t afford a better apartment either _anyway_ , he doesn’t mind so much. Or he does, but his options are so limited that complaining is futile.

There’s also the aforementioned fact that he’s been described as a workaholic but that’s neither here nor there. When doggedly pursuing a promotion, ‘workaholic’ just kind of wraps itself up into that, doesn’t it?

He barely makes it into the elevator before the doors close, and barely manages to keep the coffee lids on and his shirt clean. If the ride up to his floor wasn’t so short, the awkward silence and knowing looks from people who don’t happen to be the executive assistant of the editor in chief, well that would just be unbearable.

But as it is.

“Cutting it close there, Connor.” the receptionist greets.

“One of those mornings.” he grunts in response, breezing past. Over his shoulder, he adds, “Thank you, Captain Obvious.” not with rude intent, and he’s fully expecting Chen to reply with ‘you’re welcome, Sergeant Sarcasm’ or something along those lines (Tina’s usually pretty good natured) but before she can, Connor runs full force into the mail boy.

“Sweet _Jesus!_ ” he doesn’t mean to shout, really, but, well, there goes one of the lattes. And it _hurts_. Hot coffee is not pleasant when it’s spilled on someone, fact.

Ignoring someone’s sarcastic call of,

“Rub some dirt on it, man!” he bolts over to a friendly face.

“Chris! I need the shirt off your back. Literally.” and quickly. Because the coffee is starting to burn and Connor would much rather not peel skin away with his shirt, thanks.

Chris takes one look at him, raises an eyebrow, and simply says,

“Hell no.”

And the Boss Lady will be here any minute.

Jesus Christ.

“Gears versus Bulls. Next Friday night. Two company seats for your shirt. _Please!_ ” Connor isn’t sure whether it’s the desperation in his voice or the basketball tickets that gets Chris to relent, but regardless, he’s following Connor to the men’s restroom and exchanging his crisp white shirt for Connor’s soiled one.

“I’ll get it back to you as soon as I can. I owe you one!” the way today is going, he’s going to owe lots of people lots of things.

And She hasn’t arrived yet. Okay. Okay, good. Business as usual. He can handle this. For all she knows, Connor was perfectly on time, had gotten her coffee and hadn’t had any mishaps. Good. Great. Perfect!

He’s just done fixing his tie when the atmosphere of the entire floor turns to solid ice.

How to describe the Editor in Chief at Anderson and Fowler…

Well. North Mills is a Mythic Bitch. She sucks out your soul with one withering glare, makes grown men cry, scares children and has every other woman in the room either wanting to be her or wanting her dead. There is no in between. Yet still, she has a regal air about her. She commands respect and inspires fear without ever saying a word.

If she wasn’t such an asshole, she’d be really attractive, if Connor’s being honest. She’s short(ish), but she’s got a pair of legs on her that make any pair of heels look good, a slender waist that would inspire jealousy in _anyone_ , and these big brown doe eyes that lead you into a false sense of security before she sinks her perfectly manicured claws into your heart.

“Mornin’ Boss!” Connor greets as cheerily as he can, handing over the coffee cup as she breezes by. “You’ve got a conference call in half an hour.”

“Yes, about the marketing for the spring books, I recall.” her voice, too, is something deceptive. Soft, sweet, but could rip a person to _shreds_.

“Staff meeting at nine.”

“Did you call— who’s that woman? The one with the overprotective girlfriend?”

“Traci, yes. I told her that if she doesn’t get her manuscripts in on time, we don’t give her a release date. Also, your immigration lawyer called, it is _imperative—_ ,”

“Cancel the call.” North interrupts. “Push the meeting to tomorrow, and keep the lawyer on the sheets. Oh! And get a hold of PR and have them start drafting a press release. Ralph is doing that interview with KNC afterall.”

“Wow.” okay, yeah, impressive. Wasn’t Reed supposed to do that? Not that Gavin was the best guy for the job, what with Ralph’s…issues. “Nicely done.”

“If I want your praise I will ask for it.” just as breezily as she said that nice little sentiment, North spins around in her chair. Connor is dismissed.

And without anything calamitous happening. Look at that.

“Um. Who is Amelia? And why does she want me to call her?”

Or…not. To emphasize her point (like she really needed to), North turns the cup around to show Connor the name and number of his usual barista, written in bold, black in. Aha. Great. Should be lie? He should lie.

“That was originally my cup.” he admits instead. And he was so close to his escape. She’s going to rip him apart. As…per usual, really.

“Why, pray tell, am I drinking your coffee?”

“…because your coffee spilled.”

She gives him a slow smirk, and in the most dramatic way possible, takes a sip.

“And you drink pumpkin spice, Connor?”

“…I do. I really…like pumpkin.” Which, is a total lie. In fact he hates pumpkin. But he chokes it down during PSL season. “I don’t drink the same coffee as you, just in case yours spills. That would be pathetic.” Another lie.

Right. Dig yourself a deeper and deeper hole, Con, that’s it.

The phone rings just before North can make another comment. Saved by the bell.

“Morning. Ms. Mills’ office.” he greets, and immediately cringes at the voice on the other end.

“Hi, Connor. North in yet?”

“Hi Gavin.” God. Nobody likes him. Out of the corner of his eye, Connor sees North gesture to him. “Er. Actually we’re headed to your office right now. Okay. Bye.” as he hangs up, North spins back around to face him, stands in one fluid motion and smooths the wrinkles on her skirt. “Why are we going to Gavin’s office?”

Pursed lips and a cocked eyebrow in response. She looks like she very badly wants to smile. Ah. Connor refuses to admit that he takes a childish delight in the fact that his least favorite coworker is about to get chewed out.

Calmly, he walks out of her office. The minute he’s out of view, he sprints to his desk and types out a group message:

**_THE WITCH IS ON HER BROOM!!!_ **

The bullpen is silent once more as she meets him just outside her office door. Desperate for a change of topic, he asks, probably against his better judgement, the question that’s been bugging him for the last couple of weeks.

“Did you look at the manuscript I gave you?”

“I did.” she yawns. “I wasn’t that impressed.”

Of course not. Irritation flares.

“Can I say something?”

“No.”

“I’ve read thousands of manuscripts.” he says, instead of complying. Two can play at this game. “This is the only one I’ve ever given you, and there’s an amazing novel in there, the kind you typically like to publish.”

“Not true.” Oh, and Chris picks such a fine time as this to pass by, Connor’s soiled shirt proudly on display. And suddenly, Connor has a sudden, strong, and not wholly unfamiliar urge to wipe that self righteous smirk off North’s face. “And I do think you order the same coffee as me just in case you spill. Which is, in fact, pathetic.”

“Or impressive.” Connor defends through a clenched jaw.

“I’d be impressed if you didn’t spill it in the first place. Now remember, you’re just a prop in here.”

“Won’t say a word, Boss.”

She strides into Gavin Reed’s office like she owns the place. She might as well, honestly.

“Ah. The Queen and her Liege.” Gavin drawls, and his smirk rivals North’s in the cockiness department. “Do come in.”

North eyes his office silently, and there’s… _something_ brewing under the surface there.

“Beautiful bookcase.” she observes, gesturing to the new furniture in the room. “Is it new?”

“Breakfront.” Gavin corrects. Right. A breakfront…bookcase. Gavin has this habit of trying to sound smart. It never usually works for him. “Built in the nineteenth century, but yes. It is new, to my office.”

“Witty.” North murmurs, clearly unamused. “Gavin, I’m gonna get straight to the point here. I’m letting you go.”

The office goes deathly still. So— not merely in trouble then. Fired. H’okay.

“Beg pardon?”

“I asked you a dozen times to get Ralph on KNC and you didn’t. So you’re fired.” Hurriedly, before this gets loud, which it inevitably will, Connor shuts the door.

“And I told you that’s impossible. Ralph is reclusive, he hasn’t been seen in _public_ since he graduated high school. There’s no way we’re getting him on KNC.”

“It’s funny you should say that.” North drawls. And though Connor has been on the receiving end of her fury more than he would’ve liked to be, he finds himself suppressing his amusement.

The claws are out…

“Because I just got off the phone with him, and he’s all about it.”

The beast is prowling…

“You didn’t even _call_ him, did you?”

And there’s the pounce.

“But—!”

“I know, I know.” North placates, sickly sweet. “Ralph can be a bit scary, for you, to deal with.” she gives him a shrug as if to say, ‘but too bad’. “Now, I’ll give you two months to find another job. And then you can tell everyone that you resigned to save your fragile male ego.”

Without another word, North strides back in the direction of the bullpen, Connor following close behind.

“What’s his twenty?”

Connor chances a look behind him. Oof, no good. He’s seen that wild animal type of pacing before.

“He’s moving.” Connor reports. “Face is beet red. Beware the crazy eyes.”

“Don’t do it, Gav…”

“You poisonous _bitch_!” he did it. And got the attention of the entire floor in the process. “You can’t _fire_ me!”

Can’t she though? Amused, because this type of outburst has been long awaited from the King Prick himself, Connor perches on the edge of an empty desk.

“You don’t think I see what you’re doing, here? Sandbagging me on the whole KNC thing, just so you can look good to the board!? Because you are threatened by me! And _you_ are a phcking _machine_!”

Gavin looks smug. The others in the bullpen look shell shocked. North looks _amused_.

“Gavin, stop.”

“Just because you don’t have a life outside this office, that doesn’t mean you get to treat the rest of us like the dirt beneath your feet!”

Though loathe to admit it, Connor realises Gavin has a point.

“And y’know what, North? I feel sorry for you. Because y’know what you’re going to have on your deathbed? Nothing! Nobody’s going to mourn you when you’re gone!”

Oh. Ouch. Now that was just uncalled for. True, but uncalled for.

Here comes the beast again. She takes a deep breath. She steps forward.

“Listen carefully, Gav. I didn’t fire you because I feel threatened. In fact, little man, I’m not sure how anyone could feel threatened by you. You talk a big game and you act tough, but I know, inside, you’re just a small, frightened, bigoted asshole. You see, Gavin, I fired you because you’re lazy, entitled, incompetent, and you spend more time chasing tail around here than you do in your own office. And frankly, you’re unpleasant to work with. Another word, and Connor here will have you thrown out on your ass.”

And he still tries to open his mouth. The guy just doesn’t know when to quit.

“Another word.” North repeats. “And you’re leaving this office with an armed escort. Connor will film it, and he’ll put it on Youtube where, no doubt, it’ll go viral. Is that what you want?” Silence. “Didn’t think so. I have work to do.”

She leaves him standing there, gaping like a fish.

“Well. Sorry ‘bout ya, brother.” Connor says to him. “It’s been a trip, and I’m certainly going to miss our bromance, but you should probably get out of here. Ms. Mills makes promises, not threats.”

Before the shouting begins again, Connor jogs to catch up, muttering,

“That was something.”

“I saw you poke the bear.” to her credit, North sounds rather amused.

“Couldn’t resist.”

“He does make it rather easy, doesn’t he? Have security take the breakfront and put it in my conference room.”

Salt in the wound. Nice.

“Will do.”

“And I need your help this weekend. His workload is most likely piled up to the eyes and we have deadlines.”

“Uh— this weekend?” please, no. Please have meant _next_ weekend. “I can’t this weekend.”

“What, like you have plans?”

Okay, rude.

“I did, actually. Family party, my adoptive dad is turning seventy, I was going to go home and…’ and she leaves him there babbling like an idiot. “Right, good talk.”

He needs a new job.

* * *

“I know, I know. Tell Dad I’m sorry.”

Connor does realize that her office door is open, right? He’s not the best at whispering, is he?

“Mark, what do you want me to say? She’s making me work the weekend.”

There’s a strict policy against making personal calls at work. Not that North’s going to fire him, of course. Two people in one day is a little bit overkill. Besides, why lose an assistant with as dogged a work ethic as Connor?

Still, that doesn’t stop her from slinking out of her office and to his cubicle, because she’d be lying if she said she didn’t find his babbling excuses amusing.

“Yeah, I’m sure Leo is pissed…but we take all our submissions very seriously, and we’ll be sure to review it as soon as we can.” damn. He saw her coming. He hangs up the phone, and a pair of innocent puppy eyes blink up at her as she stops at his desk. And it takes her a second to get used to the fact that he hadn’t gelled his hair back today. Instead of the one stubborn curl that hangs over his forehead, there’s a whole mess of curls atop his head.

Hm. He should wear it like that more often.

“That your family?”

“Yep.” and he’s honest, too. Good for him.

“They tell you to quit?”

“Every single day.”

The phone never ceases to interrupt her today, does it? Always, as soon as she’s about to deliver a biting retort, Connor’s reaching for the phone to get out of the situation.

“Hello? Yes…yeah, she’ll be right up. Okay, thank you. Bye.”

What is it _now_?

“Anderson and Fowler want to see you upstairs.”

She groans. And she’d been having such a good morning. She’s _busy_ damn it, can’t this wait?

“Okay, come get me in ten minutes. We have a lot to do.”

“Got it.”

Her heels click through silent hallways and through the reception area of the top floor. No, it most certainly does not make her feel powerful, what a silly notion—

She doesn’t _mean_ to ignore the receptionist, truly, but she’s on a mission. She’s got lots to do and only six and a half hours left to do it.

“Hank, Jeffrey, good morning.”

The tension in the room is thick, she can already tell it’s going to be bad news. Please, don’t let anything deter her, today…

“Good morning.” Jeffrey greets.

“Congratulations on that interview with Ralph.” Hank says. “That’s really incredible.”

She’s still tense, though she can’t help but preen at the praise.

“Thank you,” she replies. “This isn’t about my second raise, is it?” it gets a lighthearted chuckle from Hank, but does nothing to diffuse the tension.

“No, sorry. North, remember when we agreed you wouldn’t go to the London book fair, because you couldn’t leave the country while your visa application was being processed?”

“Yes, yes I remember.”

“And you went to London.”

“Yes, yes I did. We were going to lose one of our best writers, so I didn’t have a choice in the matter, really.”

Two blank stares. Oh.

“Well, it seems the American government doesn’t care who publishes what.”

“We just spoke with your immigration attorney…” Jeffrey starts.

“So…everything is sorted?”

“North.” Hank grunts. “Your visa application has been denied.”

“Wh…”

“And you are being deported.”

What? No!

“D… _Deported?_ ” the word feels foreign on her tongue.

“And evidently there was also some paperwork you didn’t fill out in time.” Hank continues.

“Oh, come on. I’m from Canada, for Christ’s sake! I’m not even really an immigrant!” she’s grasping for straws now, she knows, but this is… “There’s gotta be something we can do.”

“We can reapply, but unfortunately you have to leave the country for at least a year.”

Oh, wow, she feels nauseous. Would it be dramatic to grasp the chair in front of her? Probably. Is she doing it anyway? Yeah.

Okay, okay…this might not mean she loses her job. She can manage everything from her home—

“Okay, well…it’s not _ideal_ , but I can…I can manage everything from Montreal, with video conferencing and all that.”

“Unfortunately, North, you can’t work for an American company if you’ve been deported.” Hank, to his credit, sounds pained. “I’m afraid we’ll have to hand operations over to Gavin Reed.”

Oh, good God. Can this day get any worse?

“Gavin Reed. The guy I just fired?”

“We need an editor in chief.” Jeffery sighs. “And he’s the only one in the _building_ with enough experience.”

If she didn’t know any better, she’d think Gavin ratted her out. But as much as she knows he’d definitely pull some crap like this, North remembers Connor saying something about her attorney calling her earlier today.

_Fuck_.

She hears herself sputtering, and between the pleas and the nonsense, through the ringing in her ears, she hears someone saying,

“We’re just as desperate for you to stay as you are, North. And if there was anything that could keep you here, we’d jump at it.”

Her next reply is cut off by the door opening.

“Young man, do you mind?” Jeffrey’s saying. “We’re in a meeting.”

“I’m sorry, I know.” Connor’s voice isn’t usually irritating, but right now… “It’s just, Ms. Mills—”

“ _What?_ ” she shouldn’t snap, she knows this. But Connor’s a big boy, if his feelings are hurt, so be it.

“Sorry, it’s just. Rosanna, from KNC called, she’s on hold, I told her you were otherwise engaged, but she insisted, so…”

Wait.

Wait a moment.

Engaged…if she’s engaged, then…!

She comes to realize that she’s been staring at Connor, and judging by the look on his face, she’s been staring at him like she’s going to kill him. Tossing a smile back at Hank and Jeffrey, she frantically waves Connor over, who walks forward timidly, like one might approach a wild animal.

“Gentlemen, I understand the predicament we are in, I do. But, uh…I have an announcement. Something I think you should know. We’re getting married.” she says, and pats Connor’s sternum for emphasis.

“Who’s getting married…?” he whispers.

“We are. We’re getting married.”

_For God’s sake, Con, just play along._

“We are…getting married.” he repeats. Good enough.

“Isn’t…he your secretary?” Hank questions.

“Assistant.” Connor corrects.

“Executive assistant.” North adds. “It— titles. Besides. It wouldn’t be the first time one of us fell for our secretaries, would it, Hank? Remember, Stephanie? How’s…little Cole by the way?”

She should…really stop talking, shouldn’t she? At least Jeffery is hiding a smirk behind his hand, and Hank looks almost amused rather than offended. Small victories.

“Yeah, it’s just, y’know.” Connor pipes up, still with that deer in the headlights look. To his credit, though he clearly has no idea what’s going on, (more probably has a hunch about it, because as much as North treats him as such, he’s not stupid.), he’s playing along. Good for him. North’s heart decides to finally stop racing. “Something…happened there. Late nights at the office. Weekend book fairs…” he offers.

Good, yes, perfect!

“Yeah, just…Connor and I, we’re just two people who were never supposed to fall in love, and we did…’

“No…”

“We tried to fight it, that’s for sure.”

“Can’t fight a love like ours…”

She could kiss him. Of course, given the situation, that’s probably something she should get used to. But that’s just unprofessional, to kiss your assistant, fiancé or no, in front of the bosses. She settles for linking her arm in his.

“So is this good? Are you guys happy? Because we’re happy. So happy…”

“North.” Jeffrey says. “We’re thrilled. Just make it legal, yeah?”

“Yeah, right, of course! We will go do that, right now, and head down to the immigration office. Thank you so much, gentlemen.”

She leaves their office with a spring in her step. It’s all going according to plan, thus far.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor is screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes it's a shorter chapter today, lads.
> 
> Please enjoy, either way u.u

Connor feels his neck burning as he follows North back to her office. Which is probably because news travels fast, and now everyone is staring at him. Tina shakes her head disapprovingly at him. Someone else makes a rather rude gesture that he’s going to ignore. Chris looks at him, bewildered and amused, mouthing,

“Really? Her?”

And for once he’s glad to shut himself in North’s office with her. Maybe she’ll offer some sort of explanation, because he has no idea what’s going on. Why him? Why not some other poor sap? So he stares. And he stares. And he stares some more.

“What?”

“I don’t understand what’s happening. Mind clueing me in?”

“Relax.” she sighs. “This is for you too.”

Obviously.

“Do explain.”

“They were going to make Gavin editor in chief.”

 _Obviously_. That explains so much.

“So clearly I have to marry you?”

She barely even looks up at him, red pen in hand as she reviews a manuscript.

“Like you were saving yourself for someone special?”

Uh…

“I like to think so. Besides, it’s _illegal_.”

“They’re looking for terrorists.” she scoffs. “Not Canadian book editors.”

“North!”

“Yes?”

“I’m not going to marry you.”

“Sure you are. Because if you don’t, your dreams of becoming an editor are dead.” He’s…so lost. And it must show on his face because she sighs at him, a long suffering thing, and drops her pen back in the cup. “Gavin’s going to fire you the minute I’m gone, guaranteed. That means you’re out on the street, balls deep in a job search as you try coming up with ways to budget your rent. Which _means_ , all the time we’ve spent together, the lattes, canceled dates, midnight tampon runs, hours spent soothing migraines we’ve both suffered from, all that will be for naught. Thus, as mentioned before, all your dreams of being an editor are gone. Don’t worry, Con. After ten years, we can get a quickie divorce and you can be done with me. But from now on, like it or not, your wagon is hitched to mine.”

Ten…ten _years!?_

“Phone.”

He is…so… _screwed_. 

* * *

The line at the immigration office is a mile long. Is North surprised? No. Is she annoyed about it? Yes. She’s still got a lot of work to do. So when she sees an opening, she grabs Connor’s hand and jogs up to the front desk, offering the disgruntled woman a disarming smile and saying,

“I’m so sorry, this is just going to take two seconds, and I’ll be out of your way.” she turns back to the man at the front desk, offers that same smile. “Can you file this fiancé visa for me, please?”

The man gives the paper a once-over, scowls, and fixes them both with a hard look.

“North Mills?”

“That’s me.”

“Come with me.” he doesn’t sound too happy. But then, does anyone at the immigration office ever sound happy?

Still, she and Connor follow him to a small office where he leaves them there to wait. 

And wait.

And wait.

Connor seems much too tense. She wishes he’d relax.

“I have a bad feeling about this.” he murmurs. North is about to say something when she’s interrupted, and really, what is it with interruptions today? She’s getting tired of them.

The man that walks in rivals Gavin in the greasy department. They look like they could be cousins or something, honestly. 

“Hi, I’m Mr. Allen. You must be Connor and North.”

“That’s us.” Connor murmurs.

“Sorry for the wait, it’s been crazy.”

He doesn’t actually seem all that sorry.

“No, it’s fine, we completely understand. And we can’t tell you how appreciative we are for you seeing us on such short notice.”

“Of course, of course. Now, let’s see here…I have just one question. Are you both committing fraud to avoid Ms. Mills’ deportation so she can keep her job as editor in chief at Anderson and Fowler?”

She wants to know how he knows, but she has an inkling.

“Why…would you say that?” Connor prods.

“No reason. It’s just that we got a tip from a man named—,”

“Was his name Gavin Reed?” North cuts in.”

“—Gavin Reed, yes.”

“I apologize.” North sighs. “Poor Gavin. He’s merely a disgruntled former employee, and I’m so sorry for his behavior. But— we know you’re incredibly busy here, so if you could just give us our next step we will be out of your hair as quickly as possible.”

“Ms. Mills, please.” he huffs, gesturing to the chair next to Connor’s. Silently giving in to the fact that she’s not going to get her work done today, she plops down. “Here’s what’s going to happen. First step, a scheduled interview. I put you both in a room, and ask every single little question only a real couple would know about each other. Step two? I dig deeper. Speak to your neighbours, analyze phone records. If your answers don’t match up at every point, you, Ms. Mills, will be deported, and you,” he points almost savagely at Connor, “Will be facing a minimum fine of twenty five thousand dollars and a stay of five years in federal prison.”

Again. North is a book editor, not a terrorist. Put into perspective this all just seems so silly. Of course, she appreciates how thorough they are, in case they _are_ dealing with an enemy of this country. Regardless.

“So is there anything you want to say, Connor?”

“The thing is, Mr. Allen…’

Oh, God. Please not now. They’re so _close!_

“North and I…” he glances over at her, and her heart pounds in her chest. But instead of doing what she thought he was going to do, which is rat her out (she would if she were him), he reaches over and places a hand on her knee. Gentle, affectionate, and still respectful. “Are just two people who were never meant to fall in love, but did.” he repeats, her words tumbling from his mouth, smooth as butter. And, God, has she mentioned she could just kiss him?

Come to think of it, she probably should. She settles for bringing his hand up to her lips and pressing a kiss to his palm, before linking their fingers together. Only for show, of course.

“We couldn’t tell anyone we work with, because of my big promotion, that I had coming up.”

Wait a minute. Rewind. What did he say?”

“What promotion is that, then?” Allen grunts.

“North and I thought it’d be…inappropriate, that I be promoted to editor while we were…y’know.”

That…sly, clever bastard.

“Right…” screw his doubt. That was smart. “Have either of you told your families about this secret love affair of yours?”

That shouldn’t have struck a chord, or made North want to stab him, but here she is, plastering a fake smile on her face.

“My mother passed away years ago, and I don’t speak to my dad, so.” she bites out. “But, Connor’s family we were going to tell this weekend.” At both of their confused looks, North elaborates. “You know. Your dad’s birthday, Con? We were going to fly out this weekend. The whole family’s coming together, we thought it would be a nice surprise.”

What, did he think she never listened?

“And where is this taking place?” 

Connor seems to find that he is not, in fact, a mute, and pipes up with.

“My dad’s house. In Sitka. Alaska.”

Oh. Well that certainly backfired. Alaska? Why so damn far? Here she was hoping she could get some things done this weekend. Well, she got herself into this mess. It’d be pointless to give it up now.

“You were going to go to Alaska this weekend.”

“Mmhm. That’s where…that’s where my little Connie is from.” so, yeah, she’s squeezing his hand a little too tight in retaliation, and using a nickname she knows he’ll hate for the same purpose. Sue her. 

“Fine, okay.” Allen grunts. “I see how this is going to go. I’ll see you at eleven o’clock Monday morning for your interviews. I admit, I’m looking forward to this one.” well he’s certainly a dick, isn’t he? She thought his features were just too small for his face, but now North thinks maybe he’s just perpetually pissed off. 

“We’re certainly looking forward to it, too.” Connor mutters back.

“I’ll be checking up on you.”

Without another word, the pair exits the office. So, it could’ve gone better. But nothing… _terrible_ happened. They have plenty of time to learn all the stupid little things about each other over the weekend. Study together, as it were. 

She nearly runs into the door as they exit the building, expecting Connor to be holding the door for him. Poor kid. He’s probably distracted.

“Okay!” she sighs. “Here’s what we’ll do. We do the weekend in Alaska, tell your family that we’re boyfriend and girlfriend, announce our engagement. Hm…use the miles for the tickets. I guess we can do first class, but only if you use the miles. And— hey, why aren’t you taking notes?”

In fact, his back has been turned to her since they left Allen’s office. When he finally does turn around, he gives her a look of utter disbelief, similar to that morning when they made their little deal. Well. When she told him what was going to happen. 

“I’m sorry.” he says. “Were you not in that room?”

“What…?” another incredulous look. “Oh! The thing you said about being promoted? Genius, he totally bought it.”

“I was serious.” he hisses. “I’m facing a giant fine, and _jail time_. That changes things, North.”

“Promote you to editor?” she scoffs back. Which, okay, he would, admittedly, make a very good editor, but North does not appreciate being played. “No way.”

“Then I quit, and you’re screwed. Bye.” At first she thinks he’s joking. He must be, right? But then, he begins walking away. No, no! He’d lied so smoothly for her, why give up now!?

“Wait, Connor!” she calls. He still doesn’t stop. “Con!” still walking. “Okay, fine!” ah, that gets him to turn back to her. “I will make you editor, fine.”

When he stops in front of her once more, he’s not grinning, but he certainly looks like he wants to.

“And you’ll publish that manuscript.”

“…ten thousand copies, first—,”

“Twenty thousand copies first run. And we’ll tell my family about our engagement how and when I want. Deal?”

“…deal.”

“Good. Now. Ask me nicely.”

“Ask you nicely _what?_ ”

“Ask me nicely to marry you.”

She has— never seen this side of him before. But then, she’s never asked this much of him before. Every man has his breaking point. His is relatively tame, comparatively.

“I’m not getting on my knees.” she snips.

“Fair enough.”

She purses her lips a bit, and says,

“Connor, will you marry me?”

“No. Say it like you mean it.”

To be honest, she wants so badly to smack him right now. Instead, she cups his hands in hers, brings them up to her face and presses a kiss to his fingers in the most dramatically chaste way she can muster.

“Connor.”

“Yes, North?”

“Dear, sweet, Connor?”

“I’m listening.”

“Would you please, with cherries on top, do me the absolute _honor_ of making me your wife?”

“Okay. Could do without all that sarcasm. But sure. See you at the airport tomorrow.”

Briefly, as he yanks his hands away, and leaves her standing there, alone on the sidewalk, she wonders if they can pull this off, if this is even _worth it_.

She needs a drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you tomorrow, fellow trash pandas. *peace sign emoji*


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> North is not expecting any of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY I WAS MIA. I had the baby all day on Friday and Saturday (and when I say all day, I MEAN it—), and then on Sunday we went to Six Flags all day, and yesterday I used to recoup and bitch about my sunburn ;; 
> 
> BUT HEY I'M BACK.
> 
> To the regularly scheduled shenanigans.

There’s been no sign of North, yet. The closer Connor gets to the front of the baggage drop line, the more often he finds himself checking his watch in irritation. If she doesn’t show up in the next—

“Hey, sorry, excuse me, I’m just trying to get to my fiancé. Yes, he’s right over there. Thank you.”

He’s not sure what he expects when he turns around to greet her, but it’s sure as hell not a sound kiss on the lips.

Oh, right. They’re supposed to be playing a part, here.

Another thing that’s strange to him— the loose side braid, the hoodie that looks about two sizes too large for her, the leggings, and…a pair of converse? He thought all she owned were heels that could kill someone if she really tried. Connor has flown with North before, for book fairs, and she— never looked like this. The most dressed down he’s seen her is in a pair of jeans and a blazer, and he never knew she was actually this short. Oh, and the coup de grace? She’s wearing the same exact beanie that he has placed over his curls. Huh. Imagine that.

“Wow.” he comments. “It’s like you’re a whole other person. Do I know you? You look remarkably like North Mills.”

“Ha. And what about you? I’ve never seen you wear glasses.”

He feels almost indignant, as he pushes the offending spectacles up the bridge of his nose and holds back a huff.

“Contacts. Didn’t want to wear them on the plane.” specifically because he has nobody to impress. Book fairs are different. He supposes that explains North’s shabby-chic getup. “And I grabbed a list of all the questions they might ask us on Monday, the binder’s in my laptop back, so. We should probably go over that on the plane.”

Was it hours of research, because he knew a man like Mr. Allen would never just willingly give them the questions to study? You bet. Is that pathetic? Probably. Is it going to save them? More than likely.

“Sounds like a plan.”

And here’s the thing. Once they get through the baggage drop and security checkpoint, it feels…weirdly domestic. They don’t chit chat as they sit at the terminal, as mindless chatter has never been their thing and they won’t start now, but as they sit and wait for their plane to arrive, Connor with a book in his hands, and North leaning tiredly against his shoulder, he suddenly realises that, yeah, maybe he is the best choice to play the part of the doting fiancé. He knows everything there is to know about her, anyway.

The question is, does she know the important little details about him?

Doubtful.

It’s not until they’re in the air, after North has gotten a cup of coffee from the flight attendant that she seems awake enough to pay attention.

“Here’s that binder I was talking about.” he says. “The good news is, I know all these things about you. The bad news is, you’re going to have to learn all these things about me by Monday morning.”

She all but snatches the binder from him. He can give her a break. She’s tired.

“You know all these things about me.” it’s not a question.

“Yep. Spooky, isn’t it.”

“Little bit. Oh, what am I allergic to?”

“Blueberries. And the entire spectrum of human emotion.”

“That’s hilarious. Ooh! Here’s a good one. Do I have any scars?”

“I’m pretty sure you have a tattoo.”

“Oh, you’re pretty sure?”

Actually, he’s certain.

“About a year ago your dermatologist called and asked about a Q-Switch laser. Obviously I googled what a Q-Switch laser was and found that they do, in fact, remove tattoos.” so he’s feeling a little chuffed with himself. Sue him. Though it’s kinda sad that he feels Smart after googling something— “But you canceled your appointment. So…what embarrassing tattoo do you have, Northy? Tribal ink? Tramp stamp? Barbed wire?” he whispers the last part, like it’s supposed to be more scandalous than a tramp stamp supposedly is. 

“You know it’s exciting for you to experience you like this?” North says, voice oozing honey, but laced with poison. That Barbie Doll smile is back, the kind that always makes him uncomfortable, but some part of him, probably the part that will forever be mentally twelve, is doubled over laughing.

“Thank you.” he whispers back. “You’re going to have to tell me where it is, though.”

“No, I’m not.”

“They’re going to ask.”

“And we’re done with that question, Connor.” she purses her lips as she glances back down at the page in front of her. “Whose place do we stay at, yours or mine? Well that’s easy. Mine, obviously.”

“And why wouldn’t we stay at mine?” okay, so, it’s small, and it’s kinda dingy, but he’s got a decent place, damn it!

“Because I live in a penthouse. And yours is, no doubt, a squalid little studio with stacks of yellowed Penguin classics. Not to mention, they’re going to be interviewing our neighbours. Where mine don’t pay attention, I take it yours are nosy, yes?”

Round three to North.

And she knows it too.

Which makes their tiny connecting flight from Juneau to Sitka an absolute _delight_ for Connor to witness, if only for a petty reason, as North struggles her way through it.

That, of course, only lasts so long. When the familiar mountain range and the lake come into view, he’s hit with a sudden wave of vertigo. It’s been…three years? Three years, since he returned home. 

And there are two of his three brothers, standing there with a homemade sign, just outside baggage claim.

God.

He squashes down any and all feelings of guilt, as he exits the plane, and the smile that splits his face is genuine, as he runs over and is immediately enveloped in the affectionate younger brother.

“Hi!” he says with a grin. “When did you guys arrive?”

“I got in this morning.” Seamus is saying, “Markus has been here since yesterday afternoon.”

“Just had to go and one-up everyone, didn’t you Mark?” Connor jokes, and turns to give their elder brother a hug as well. 

“It really do be like that sometimes.” is the chuckled response. “But, uh, Con? You left your girl in the dust.”

“Give him a break, he’s excited to be home.” Seamus chides. 

“Matching beanies and everything.” Markus comments. “She’s your soulmate.”

“Shut up.” Connor tells him, and by then North is by his side. “Hi! You’re here, everyone’s…here, it’s great. Uh, North, these are my brothers, Markus and Seamus. Guys, this is North.”

Well— North’s smile seems genuine, albeit a little awkward.

“It’s nice to meet you both.” she says. “Thank you for having me.”

“Oh, no, it’s our pleasure.” Seamus insists. “Dad’s stoked to meet you.” 

“Now, do you prefer North, or Satan’s Mistress?” Markus asks, and Connor? Connor wants to Die. “We’ve heard it both ways.”

“Markus!” Seamus hisses. “He’s kidding.”

And he is, but _come on_ , dude!

“Now let’s get you two back home.” Seamus says. And Connor couldn’t be happier to. Even if North feels the need to link their arms together.

“Satan’s Mistress, huh?” she whispers. “Nice pet name.”

“Only the best for you.”

It seems as if nothing changed. Everything is almost eerily the same. Except, perhaps, the fact that Leo expanded the family business. In the car, he notes some of the new shops with the Manfred name on them. He wonders, briefly, if Dad knows about them. He was never a fan of his oldest son owning half the town of Sitka.

Sharp knuckles to his shoulder draw him out of his reverie. And a…ring? Where in the hell did she get that? She didn’t buy an engagement ring just for this endeavor did she? That’s dedication.

“ _Ow_.” he hisses. “Don’t do that.”

“Didn’t tell me about all the family businesses, honey.” she responds.

“He was probably just being modest.” Markus pipes up from the driver’s seat. “He gets like that.”

“Don’t we all?” he shoots back, fondly.

“True enough.”

North is eyeing him strangely. He decides it’s best to just ignore it.

But, _God_ , even the docks stayed the same. If he looks closely, he can even see the initials he and Chloe had carved into the posts when they were in high school. Yikes. 

“I thought we were going to the hotel…” North murmurs.

“Dad took the liberty of cancelling your hotel.” Markus tells her. “Family stays with family.”

“Or…something like that.” Seamus says, smiling almost nervously. 

Seamus is a very nervous young man.

“Hop aboard!”

Connor is about halfway through loading the luggage into the boat when North tugs on his sleeve, and it’s such an uncharacteristic action out of her that he pauses and raises an eyebrow.

“I can’t swim.” she whispers. “You know I can’t swim.”

“Hence, the boat.”

“Connor!”

“You’ll be fine. You won’t fall out. And even if you do, we have lifejackets.”

“How very reassuring.”

“Would you just— get on the boat, North. Or would you prefer to learn how to swim this very second?”

So. That came out more like a threat than he’d intended, and immediately upon seeing North’s wide eyes he feels really, _really_ bad but…this woman, sometimes.

“Listen, I’m sorry, but you really will be fine.”

“Okay…”

He’s already climbed down to the lower dock by the time she’s wracked her courage enough to even step up to the ladder. She stares at him. She stares at the ladder. She stares at the water. Finally, she turns around and begins her slow descent.

“Lookin’ good Boss. Take your time, though.”

“Shh!”

When she’s about halfway down, Connor decides he’d better give her a hand. And it’s not like he _means_ to put a hand on her butt (no, truly, he doesn’t.) but it’s more support than putting a hand on her leg or her waist, and his arm doesn’t reach high enough to place a hand on her back.

“Just gonna give you a hand—,”

“Hand. Off. Ass.” she hisses. “Off ass.”

He raises his hands in surrender, as a silent, ‘have it your way’, but he understands. It’s not like her leggings hide much, and, well, he is but a man. Not, specifically, _that_ kind of man, but North knows that he is, in fact, a blue-blooded male, and—

(Is he rambling, even in his own thoughts? Yes. Yes he is.)

“You’re there.” he finds himself saying. “Just hop down.” She freezes, at that, and though he can’t see her face, he can sympathize. He’s not entirely sure if she’s _afraid_ of the water, per say, but she must be if she can’t even swim at thirty-something. “Here. I’m not getting fresh, I swear on my father’s life.” and with that, he reaches up, grabs her by the armpits as gently as his patience will allow, and helps her as she jumps off the last rung. “Congrats.” he whispers in her ear. “I’m a hundred years old.”

“Fuck off.” she whispers back.

“Gladly. Life jacket.”

She seems miffed at him ordering her around like she always does to him, but he finds himself ever so pleased for irony’s sake when she begrudgingly does as told. And she absolutely does not look adorable completely engulfed in a life jacket. Not one bit. 

* * *

It’s only a ten minute boat ride, and it would be completely uncomfortably silent if not for Seamus happily chatting away. It’s…strange. He looks just like Connor, save for the grey eyes. Same height, same faces, same everything, the only difference between the two being the eyes and their mannerisms. Where she’s noticed Connor as more reserved, and more awkward (very awkward), Seamus seems…a little more outgoing, a little more…social? That seems accurate.

“Here we are.” Markus calls suddenly, from where he’s driving the boat. “Home sweet home.” 

She looks up. And she’s not sure what she’s expecting but it’s not _that_. It’s by no means a mansion but it might as well be. From what she can see, there’s a decent sized boathouse, a windowed studio with…quite a lot of paintings, finished and unfinished alike, hanging around. Not to mention, a barn. If she finds out they have horses…

“That’s your _home?_ ” she finds herself asking. Connor glances at her briefly, over his shoulder, and back to the front. Conversation over, then.

She’s not happy with him, currently, anyway. Maybe plotting his death, but that’s neither here nor there.

Okay, it’s not like she doesn’t know she deserves the irritation and grumbles she’s been getting, what with being a stone cold bitch for the past few years, but, hey, a woman in her position has to be stony and bitchy if she wants to get ahead. Book Editor doesn’t seem like it’d be a male-dominated, competitive profession, but here she is.

At least he helps her out of her boat, and her life jacket. Such a gentleman.

He is going to make her carry her own luggage, though, which, yeah, fair enough. He’s not on duty, currently. But the shit is _heavy_ , and when Seamus and Markus both chide him for not helping, his reply has her irritation flaring once more,

“I would, but she insists on doing it all herself.”

Prick. 

Again, she knows she deserves it, but still. Prick.

“So…” she says, as she catches up. “Why didn’t you tell me you were rich?”

“I’m not rich.” is his counter. “My family is.”

“Okay, y’know what, that’s only something rich people say.” she grumbles. He looks like he wants to retort, but a new voice grabs their attention.

“Hey, Con! Welcome home!”

“Uh, guys!” he calls, and North can sympathize with the wide-eyed, startled expression. “What the hell?”

“It’s just a little welcoming party. Dad wanted to throw it when you arrived, to welcome all of us home.” Markus explains. _Great._

“Trust Dad to throw _us_ a party on his birthday weekend.” Connor grumbles.

“A party?” North hisses to him.

“I guess so.” he sighs back. She takes comfort in knowing he’s no happier than she about this. “Keep walking. My wheelchair bound father can move quicker than you.” is it too late to back out of this? Similarly, would it be rude to slap him in front of his brothers? “Put your back into it.”

Because she really, really wants to slap him. She’ll refrain.

And she would’ve preferred a change in outfit, and maybe a shower. She feels gross from the plane, and it’s not like leggings and a hoodie make for the best party outfit. She supposes she looks no different than most of the party guests, but she certainly feels underdressed. But then, she’s used to a different kind of party.

That seems bitchy. Does that seem bitchy?

And she’s _tired_. She’s commending herself for making nice, even as she’s tapped out on being…social, regardless. She can do this. She’s used to this. This is part of what she does. If this is part of their deal, so be it.

“So…” she says, during one of the rare quiet moments they have together. “Why didn’t you tell me you were some kind of Alaskan Kennedy?” 

“I’m sorry.” he responds, flatly, not even looking at here. “We were in the middle of talking about you for the last three years.”

Okay, that’s it. They’re supposed to be playing a part, here. 

“Look.” she whispers. “We’ve got to stop this bickery thing. People are supposed to think we’re in love, so let’s act like it.”

“Oh, I can do that. I can act like the doting fiancé. But for you, that would require you to stop with your Freddy Krueger stint.”

Freddy…? Oh. Killing teenagers while they dream. Cute.

Has she mentioned that she wants to smack him, today?

In fact, she might’ve, if someone hadn’t stepped in. Thankfully, the elusive father takes that moment to wheel himself over.

“There he is!”

“Dad!” 

(Okay, so, yeah, maybe the bright smile that immediately overtakes Connor’s features is adorable, but shh. She didn’t think that. And she absolutely does not enjoy the view as he leans down to give his adoptive father a hug. Not a bit.)

“Dad, this is North. North, this is my dad, Carl.”

“Hi.” she says. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. My, uh…my mother loved your work.”

Which isn’t just flattery— it is indeed, the God’s Honest Truth. Some of them, that her mother had purchased when Mr. Manfred was still a no-name artist, still hang in her apartment. She’d never had the heart to sell them, and still to this day wonders why her father never did.

Carl waves a hand, and she knows that he’s not Connor’s biological parent, but she knows, now, where he got that smile.

“I’m flattered. And I’m just as thrilled to meet you.”

When she goes in for a handshake, he waves her hand off and instead raises his arms for a hug, and, well, who is she to say no to as sweet an old man as him?

“Con, I’m sure your sister is around here some—,” 

Before he can finish his sentence, a young girl around the age of maybe seven or eight runs over and hops into Carl’s lap with no qualms, but he looks just as happy to see her. Quickly following her, is a young woman with her black hair framing her face in a pixie cut, and North immediately notes that she’s a little jealous she can pull it off.

“Alice, don’t—! Okay. That’s fine.” the woman sighs. The girl, Alice, beams up at her. 

“She’s fine, Kara.” Carl insists.

Connor surprises her again, with a warm chuckle. 

“Uh, North, this is my sister, Kara, her daughter Alice, and…Luther is around here somewhere. He’s hard to miss.”

“Hello!” Kara greets, and North finds that this is a rather…huggy family.

“So, I’ve always been curious.” Carl is saying. “What exactly does a book editor do?”

North opens her mouth to respond when another person, yes, _another person,_ steps into the conversation. How many people are here? The entire population of Alaska?

“That’s a good question. I’m curious to know the answer myself.”

She doesn’t miss the way Connor immediately tenses. 

“Hey, Leo.”

“Hello, Brother dear.”

Of course, _they_ shake hands. How…strange. She’d thought Connor had a relatively good relationship with his brothers.

“This must be Northy.”

God, _no_.

“Just North.”

“I’m Leo.” she immediately hates him, and desperately wants to recoil from the handshake he offers. “Pleasure to meet you.”

He also reminds her of Reed. What is it with all the Gavins in the world surrounding her and Connor?

“Pleasure is mine.” she lies.

“So, uh, why don’t you tell us exactly what a book editor does? Aside from taking authors out to lunch and getting bombed.”

Charming.

“Leo.” Carl warns. 

“Well…” Kara says slowly. “That…sounds fun. No wonder you like being an editor, Connor.”

“Oh, didn’t you know, sis?” and even Kara, who, insofar, seems like the sweetest of the Manfred bunch, curls her lip at the monicker, even if they are siblings. “Connor isn’t the editor, North is. She’s his boss, in fact.”

Well that got awkward in a hurry. She chances a look over at Connor, and if looks could kill…

“Think I’ll get a refill.”

The awkward silence stretches until Leo has left the room.

“He seems…nice.” North murmurs. Connor, still glaring daggers at his brother’s back even as he leaves the room, bites out,

“I’ll be right back…”

“Do they have to get into this now?” Kara whispers, again, after Connor is out of earshot. “Connor just got in, what, twenty minutes ago?”

“Leo can’t resist.” Carl mutters. He looks regretfully up at North, and offers a sympathetic smile. “Sorry, he’s…he and Connor never got along.”

 _‘Can’t imagine why…’_ North thinks to himself.

“If…you don’t mind my asking…” she begins. “Is he like this with…all of you guys?”

“To a degree?” Kara answers. “He and Connor butt heads the most, and he never got along with Markus, either. Mostly we just try to ignore him.”

North nods, not so much in understanding, she never had siblings, but then she never got along with her father, did she?

“I’m just gonna go…” awkwardly gesturing in the direction the brothers went, she finishes lamely with, “Check up on him.”

“By all means.” Carl says, warmly. And as she walks away, she hears him saying to Kara, “I like her. She seems good for him.”

If only he knew…

“Leo, I just got back. Can we wait a few minutes before we start throwing the kitchen sink at each other?” she hears from, well, the kitchen.

“I just never took you for the man to sleep your way to the middle.” Leo is saying.

“I’ll have you know.” Connor bites out. “That she is a highly respected editor, one of the best in Detroit, and I won’t have you insulting her like this.”

Is she flattered? No.

(Yes.)

“For God’s sake, Connor, she’s your meal ticket.”

She can hazard a guess at Connor’s facial expression, even if she is eavesdropping from just outside the door. And even in her mind’s eye, it’s scary.

“She’s not my meal ticket, _bro_. She’s my fiancée.” a beat of silence, and North desperately tries not to choke on her own spit. “Yeah. We’re getting married.”

There’s a pair of footsteps exiting the kitchen, and North is ever so glad that there’s more than one door, and that, seemingly Connor, chose the door she wasn’t listening into their conversation outside of.

“Hey, everyone! I’d like your attention! Uh, North and I are engaged.”

This time, she does choke on her spit.

Right into it then!

“North? Where are you…honey?”

Carefully, quietly, though it’s all a moot point since she already knows she’ll be the center of attention, she rounds the corner to see Connor standing in the middle of the living room.

“There she is! That’s…her. That’s my fiancée.”

There’s a round of applause. Someone pops a bottle of champagne. And North is grateful, if only for something to calm her nerves.

“So that was your idea of the perfect moment to announce our engagement?”

“Yup.”

“Well done.”

“Thanks.”

“Connor!”

Another new voice. North would very much so like to curl up in bed and sleep for ten years, now.

“Chloe…? Hey!”

And she is most definitely not jealous of the big grin Connor is giving to the (gorgeous) newcomer, and most definitely not jealous of the hug he’s giving her.

“Uh, North this is my, uh…my ex, Chloe. Chlo, this is North, my fiancée.”

“It’s so nice to meet you.” Chloe is saying. “Congratulations, to you both, it’s wonderful.” and she doesn’t say it in the…bitchy ex-girlfriend way, but she seems, like, genuine. “So, did I miss the story?”

“What…” North begins.

“What story?” Connor finishes.

“You know…how you proposed?” Chloe prompts.

“Oh!” Kara says from the couch. “How a man proposes says a lot about his character.”

“I wanna hear!” Alice pipes up from the floor.

“Actually…” Seamus says from his spot next to Kara. “I’m rather interested, too.”

North exchanges a glance with Connor. She can see something brewing in his eyes. 

_Don’t you dare_. She thinks to him.

“Actually, North loves, _loves,_ telling this story.” he did it. He dared. “So why don’t you tell them, _pumpkin_?”

She’s going to kill him.

But first? She’s going to play this one up _big_.

“Wow. Where to begin…” she murmurs, and smirks over at Connor as he sits down on the arm of the couch. “Well, uh…Connor and I, were about to celebrate our first anniversary together.” pause for the chorus of ‘aww’s. “And I knew that he was itching to ask me, y’know, to marry him, but he was scared, like a little tiny puppy dog.” yes. She’s relishing in that subtly pissed off look he’s giving the floor. “So I started leaving these little hints here and there, because I knew he wouldn’t have the guts to ask—,”

“Yeah, that’s not exactly how it happened.” Connor interrupts. And she knows she got under his skin. Ha.

“No?”

“No. I picked up on all her ‘little’ hints.” he says. “This woman is about as subtle as a bomb.'' pause for the chorus of laughs. “No, what I was worried about, was that she’d find this little box—,”

Ah, yes, the perfect opportunity to take back control of her embarrassing little story.

“OH! Yeah, the little decoupage box that he made, where he’d taken the time to cut out little pictures of all my favorite things and paste them on himself!” ha. Take that. Let everyone think you’re a sap. “ _So_ beautiful. So I opened that beautiful little box, and out popped these little hand cut heart confettis. And when that cleared, I saw the most beautiful, _big_ —,”

“Fat, nothing.” he’s taking control again. He must know he won’t win this, right? “No ring. But underneath all that crap, was a note. With the address to a hotel, date, and time. Real Humphrey Bogart type stuff, y’know? So naturally, North—,”

“I thought he might be seeing someone else.” teach him to keep taking over her story. “Yeah. It was a really hard time for me. But I went to that hotel room, and I knocked on the door. But the door was already ajar. And there, in a bed of rose petals, was Connor,” she pauses to grin at Kara and Seamus. “Your brother, kneeling, with tears in his eyes, and he said—,”

“And I said ‘North will you marry me?’ and she said ‘Yep!’, the end.”

She’s taking great pleasure in his discomfort, and she really hopes he knows this.

“That’s beautiful.” Chloe is saying.

“Uncle Connor, that’s so romantic!” Alice beams. 

“Who’s hungry?” Connor says.

He gets up to leave the room, and then,

“Let’s see a kiss!”

Oh.

Can they not?

But the majority of the room starts chanting that four-letter word like they’re in middle school, so, just to get them to _stop_ that, North bites back her initial discomfort, grabs Connor by the hoodie, and presses her mouth to his. He’s startled at first, she can feel him tense, but it’s only a microsecond, and he’s relaxing, one hand coming up to rest on the side of her neck, and—

Oh. Okay. Yeah, so, the thought that she could certainly get used to this is sudden and overwhelming.

Her lips buzz for the rest of the night after he pulls away.

* * *

Connor couldn’t be happier when the night ends. Though he had been amused when North met his gigantic brother-in-law, because that startled look in her eye is the expression most wear when they meet the Gentle Giant for the first time. Alice had cried. 

(Of course, her and her stepdad are attached at the hip, now, but that’s neither here nor there.)

Regardless, he’s…as much as he loves his family, he’s ready to sleep. He’s heard enough ‘matching beanie’ jokes for one day, and he’s definitely had enough socializing. This, this day right here, is a prime example of why he needs hometime more often. Trying to fit three years of missed interactions into a few hours has proven to be an exhausting endeavor.

Stepping into his childhood room, he’s hit with a wave of nostalgia. She hadn’t known it, at the time, but North had been right on the money when she’d described yellowing stacks of Penguin Classics, but rather than just in his apartment, they litter his room, as well, still. The band posters still hang on the walls, and though the _Knights of the Black Death_ are more of a guilty pleasure for him these days, and he’s cringing at the posters now, he can’t help but feel touched that his room stayed the same. Kara’s had been converted into a studio when she and Luther moved into their own place, and Markus’ had been converted to a simple guest room when he left for New York. But the fact that Connor’s had stayed the same…

“Beautiful view…” North murmurs as she looks out the window. Briefly, he wonders if she’d ever had a view like this from her childhood home in Canada, or if she’d always lived in a city. “We’re uh…sharing the room then?”

“We’re not under the impression that you two aren’t already…” Markus starts.

“Markus.” Connor warns.

“Sleeping in the same bed.” Kara finishes. “So…”

Before anyone can say anything else, mercifully, a ball of fluff runs in to break the awkward silence. And the little white puppy is jumping on North’s legs.

“Kodiak!” Kara admonishes. “Behave!”

Immediately, Connor cannot resist picking the pup up and giving him All of the Snuggles.

“You are _cute_!” he coos, and grins when he’s given wet kisses. “Yes, hello, I’m happy to meet you too.”

“Sorry…” Kara sighs. “Dad just rescued him from the pound and he’s still in training.”

“He’s precious.” North is saying, and when Connor glances over, her smile is genuine. “What breed is he?”

“A malamute, we think?”

“Oh, big boy!” North, honest to god, coos, at the dog, just as Connor did. “Yeah, you’re going to be a big boy, you are!” she’s _giggling_ , as Kodiak bestows his affection on her, as well.

“Just don’t let him outside.” Markus warns. “The eagles will get him.”

“Don’t you listen to that meanie.” Connor tells the dog. “He’s just pulling your leg.”

He’s sorely disappointed when Markus takes the malamute pup back, and, to her credit, North seems like she is, too.

“There’s extra towels, and linens in here, if you need them.” Kara says, gesturing to the cupboard. “So…I think I better head home. Alice needs to get to bed, and it’s been quite an evening.”

And just like that, they’re alone.

As North heads to the bathroom to change, Connor goes about setting a makeshift bed up for himself on the floor. The carpet is fluffy enough, right?

“So…” he calls. “Where’d you get the ring?”

“It was my mom’s.” is the response, just loud enough to be heard over the running water. “And, uh, you don’t get home much, do you?”

_Gee, you think?_

“I haven’t exactly had much vacation time over the last three years.” he huffs back.

“Stop complaining.”

He’s just about to lay down when the door opens. Again, he’s not sure what he expects, but North is always so _extra_ about everything that he’s expecting, like, silk pajamas or something. But if her leggings/hoodie/converse combo was anything to go by, the boyshorts and the loose tee shirt shouldn’t have been so shocking to him. She looks oddly cute; the shirt hanging off her shoulder makes her look even more petite than she already is, and the messy bun and toothbrush hanging lazily from her hand makes her look that much more like a human being.

“What are you doing?”

“Laying down for the night…?” 

“On the floor.”

“Any better ideas? It’s not exactly appropriate to snuggle with your boss.”

“I’m not your boss on this trip, remember? I’m your fiancée. I’ve no qualms about sleeping in the same bed with you. It’s not like anything’s going to happen.”

So she’s not going to rip his balls off in his sleep? That’s reassuring.

“As long as you’re cool with it.”

“I’m cool with it, if you’re cool with it. Besides, your brothers and dad don’t exactly strike me as the ‘knock before entering’ type.” 

She’s got a point there. With a shrug, he picks up the blanket he was laying on— and for her sanity as well as his, he won’t mention that said blanket had been dubbed ‘the baby maker’ by Kara— and tosses it back onto the mattress. Just as he’s getting under the covers, North is finishing up in the bathroom, and scurrying up to snuggle in as well, to escape the cool night air.

Unsurprisingly, she’s out as soon as her head hits the pillow. And if, halfway through the night, he wakes briefly to North turning over and snuggling into his chest, well, he won’t mention it if she doesn’t.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I say Carl adopted all the babies, I MEAN IT. ALL THE BABIES.
> 
> Also, was gonna give RK900/Seamus a snake??? But Connor and dogs has my whole heart???? And so does North and Dogs???? So have that Pureness.
> 
> See you tomorrow (hopefully), trash pandas! :*


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second morning gets off to a rocky start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YEET I'M HERE AGAIN HEWWO.
> 
> AND THIS FIC IS JUST ABOUT FINISHED.
> 
> Look at me being productive. 
> 
> Shenanigans and all that.

The first thing North registers upon waking up is the solid warmth underneath her head. Too solid for pillow…too big for Kodiak to have slipped in during the night and snuggled up to her…but definitely…a person.

It takes her mind a moment to catch up.

Oh, yes. She’d suggested she and Connor share the bed last night. Right. She must’ve turned over in the middle of the night, and…yeah. Still…he’s comfy, and honestly, she’s content to go back to sleep. 

(Or, y’know, stare at his peaceful face as he sleeps. Is that creepy? That seems creepy. It’s just— his boyish good looks are that much more captivating when his brow isn’t creased by stress or irritation.

Oh. But she’s usually the one to put it there, isn’t she?)

And then, her damn phone rings.

Maybe it’ll stop…

It doesn’t stop.

“Nor…yer phone…” Connor murmurs, and she tenses for a moment, thinking it woke him up. But a glance back up at his face tells her he’s still asleep. Not for long, if she doesn’t answer the damn phone. Regretfully, she leaves the warmth of the bed and digs through her purse for the offending mobile. 

Oh, God, and it had to be Ralph. She doesn’t have time for this. To top things off, her reception is terrible. 

“Ralph, give me just one second. My service is terrible here.” she whisper-shouts. A grunt from Connor’s direction has her freezing, afraid she woke him up. With the crisis averted, yet again, she grabs a robe from the back of the door and wraps it around herself, scuttling out to the front lawn.

As for Ralph, though he’s cutting in and out, she can still hear the panic in his voice. Typical. His interview is in a couple of days, of course he’s panicking. She can’t hold it against him, though. He’s got…problems.

“Ralph, darling, I know you’ve got your reservations, but…yes, I know…I know. But Ralph, this is an incredible opportunity for you. Your novel brought the Cyberpunk subgenre to a whole new level. Yeah, no, I can barely hear you either.”

Kodiak won’t stop yipping at her, either, having followed her outside. Now is _not_ the time to play.

“Kodiak, shh!” she hisses. “No! No, not you, Ralph! Look, okay, you know I can call at any time and cancel…yes, of course I’m listening to you. I— yeah. Yeah, my service here is horrible. Listen, if you could just email me—,”

A mass of…something swoops past her head, and—

Oh, God. Markus was _right_. The eagle that nearly took her head off zeroes in on the puppy and, before North can get to him, it grabs the fluffball and lifts it into the air.

“Give me that dog!” she shouts. “Listen, Ralph if you could just— just hold on for just a second—!” 

With nothing else to use, and probably against her better judgement, North chucks her phone at the eagle, in the hopes that it’ll drop him.

And, look at that. It does.

Huh. She can’t believe that worked.

She has to all but dive for him, but in the end, Kodiak winds up safely in her arms. With a sigh of relief, she picks her phone up from where it fell. Thankfully, not shattered either.

“So, so sorry, Ralph, I dropped the phone. But listen to me. You can still back out if you want, but this book is your legacy. And I think you should…share it…”

The eagle is making its comeback. So what does North do? The obvious thing. Hold the dog to her chest and make a run for it. Because that won’t end with her clawed to death by talons. Right.

“Just— email me with your decision tomorrow! Bye, Ralph!” 

She ducks as the eagle swoops, and in another show of bad decisions, she holds her arm up, the one with the phone in it, to cover her head. And the eagle, attracted by the shiny object in her hand, yanks it out of her grasp.

“What…the _fuck!?_ ” 

In a show of gratitude, Kodiak licks all over her face.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re welcome. Don’t suppose you know how we’re getting my phone back?” a yip in response. “Yeah, I thought as much.”

When she goes to pet him, her hands come away from his fur, not exactly covered in blood, but there’s definitely blood.

“Did that mean eagle scratch you?” she asks him, and gets a whine. “He did? Are you okay, sweet puppy?”

“What the hell are you doing?” 

She nearly jumps out of her skin at the sound of Connor’s voice from directly behind her. 

“Connor! Markus was totally right!”

“About…?”

“This eagle came out of nowhere and snatched the dog, but I saved him, and the eagle came back, and took my phone, and—!”

“Are you drunk?”

“No, I’m completely serious! I need that phone, that’s the one Ralph’s calling me on.”

“Okay, well, don’t panic. We can order a new one, same number, and pick it up tomorrow.”

“Really.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh…”

“Is Kodiak okay?”

He probably is, but the blood worries her.

“I think he got a bit scratched up, but he’s not whining or growling when I pet him, so I think he’s relatively okay.”

Connor squints his eyes as he inspects the dog’s fur, and briefly North wonders if he didn’t put his glasses back on or his contacts in.

“Damn. It really got him, too. I’ll look after him today, but you need to get ready.”

“Er…why?”

“Dad and the girls are taking you out. Sightseeing, shopping. Y’know. The works.”

“I’m not going.” she insists.

“Yes you are.”

“I hate shopping.”

“You’re going.”

“I hate sightseeing.”+

“You’re going.” he says again. “Now, give me a nice big hug, my family is watching, and we don’t want them to think we’re fighting.”

“No, Connor!”

Well. She did snuggle him in the night. But she had been out cold, so really, this is much different. She gives in, anyway.

Not because she _wants_ to hug him, or anything. That’s silly. But there is one thing. She knows he probably didn’t mean to, but…

“Touch my ass again.” she warns, and he may not have been copping a feel, but just to be sure, “And you will not live to see tomorrow. Got it?”

When he pulls away, his lips are pursed, and is…is he blushing? Definitely didn’t mean to, then, but the reaction is still amusing.

“Got it.”

“Good. So we’re clear on that.”

“Crystal.”

“Such a good fiancé.” She pats his face once, twice, and the third time with a little more force than necessary, and she has to hold back a giggle at the awkward little “ah” sound he makes.

It’s a strange one, this trip.

* * *

Connor is halfway through his first cup of coffee when Leo finally decides to grace the world with his presence.

“So. Dad’s a little peeved. Evidently I wasn’t the most gracious of hosts last night.”

“Yeah.” Connor says, and that’s all. Instead, he busies himself with looking for something to eat.

“Just a little shocked to find out that you’re getting married. Especially when nobody knew you were dating.” is this how this conversation is going to go? “Point is…I owe you an apology.”

He’s offering another handshake. Shocker. Still, Connor reaches out and shakes his hand.

“Accepted.”

There’s a long silence, and just when Connor thinks he’s safe to take a sip of coffee.

“It’s just…why _her?_ That doesn’t look good, Connor. Marrying your boss? For what?”

Irritated, Connor slams his coffee cup down with a dull bang.

“Why do you think, Leo? So I can get ahead? Is it really so strange to hear that I might love her?”

Oh. Wait a minute. That came out of nowhere—

“Connor, two days ago you couldn’t stand her!”

“Things change!” Connor shouts back. “Besides, age old story isn’t it?” he continues, softer this time. “Love is always mistaken for loathing and all that.” Leo stares at him for a long while, after that.

“I don’t understand you.” he says finally.

“You never have though, have you?” Connor counters. “Explain to me, Leo, please, because I’d love to know. Why have you never given Kara, or Markus, or even Seamus as much crap as you give me? Kara’s a god damn elementary school teacher, Markus is a fucking _painter_ for god’s sake, and Seamus doesn’t even know what he wants to be. Yet me, the one with the safest, cushiest job in the bunch, is the one you give all the shit to. Why? You only stopped being such a dick to them after you kicked your drug habit and started this stupid ass family business. So why keep treating me the way you do?”

That…also came out of nowhere.

“I just figured you’d always be the serious one.”

“Do explain.”

“I always expected that artist shit out of Markus. He’s just like Dad. Kara always knew she wanted to be a teacher, and Seamus has never known what he’s wanted. But you? You were always the serious one. You were always the logical one. And by the time you graduated college, I’d built an empire from the ground up. I think you’re a fool to pass it up.”

Connor huffs. He pushes his tongue into his cheek.

“There it is.” he grunts. “You know what, Leo? I don’t care. I don’t care that you’ve never been able to get anyone to stay, I don’t care that you never had your own kids to pass the family business down to. The family business, that, by the way, Dad detests. You know that right? The only reason he puts up with it is because at least you’re not snorting coke anymore. I don’t care that you don’t get it, that you don’t understand my life in Detroit, sitting in an office, answering phones and reading books for a living. ‘Cause y’know what? It’s _my_ life, Leo. And I would be sorry that it doesn’t fit in with what _you_ wanted, but I’m not. Because it’s not your life. And here’s the real lesson. I’m marrying North, and I know that drives you nuts. Because she’s a powerful and respected woman, and you _can’t stand_ women like that. You wish I could’ve married someone like Chloe, I know that, but guess the fuck what, Leo? Much as I loved her, we didn’t mesh. North and I? We do. That’s final. I don’t give a damn what you think.”

He’s…on a roll today.

And he has no idea where _any_ of that came from.

And that last bit? That last bit shouldn’t be as terrifying as it was. But the fact that it came so easily, well…it must’ve been there for a long time. And what’s messed up is that it could very well be one-sided. What happens in ten years when North still wants to get a divorce, and he doesn’t want to lose her?

“Apology not accepted. I need some air.” he growls.

He needs to do some serious thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you tomorrow, trash pandas!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well that's...awkward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I feel like shit but this was already written so we're just gonna keep on trucking *finger guns*
> 
> I definitely forgot to tag it but TW for this chapter: mentions of past sexual assault. 
> 
> there's smut I guess too but it's not graphic.
> 
> to the shenanigans and all.
> 
> (also my cats were crawling around on my desk as i tried to edit this so i'm sure i'll find a million errors tomorrow oops—)

The shopping trip had been…well, shopping in Alaska is different than shopping in Detroit, she decides. It’s definitely less overwhelming. And sightseeing…well, if one could call it that. Sitka is a small town.

And, it’s…strange. Because Carl leaves her with Kara and Chloe at a bar, and takes Alice with him. It’s not like it’s even really a bar, at least not by the standards she’s come to know them as. It seems rather family friendly, after all…

But after a few minutes of chitchat, the music all of a sudden gets louder, and the lights go dim.

_Don’t tell me…_

“Ready for your surprise?” Kara giggles.

Oh…dear… _God_. It’s a strip club. Or at least a bar with a stripper. What is this, some kind of impromptu bachelorette party? 

“The twins are the only exotic dancers on the island.” Chloe’s explaining.

Wait. Twins?

Yes. Twins. They burst through the curtains together. And she supposes they’re attractive enough, blonde haired and blue eyed, but rather not her type, she supposes.

“But we’re lucky to have them!” Kara laughs over the music. “In all seriousness, Simon and Daniel…well we don’t know why they do this, per say, but they seem to have fun.”

“How do you tell them apart…?”

She supposes they’re wearing different outfits, white and black, which is…interesting. She really just hopes they keep their pants on, that they’re not just cheesy, male stripper, tear-away pants. She got enough of that in college, thanks.

“Simon! Over here!” 

So Simon’s the one in the white pants, and the only twin that seems to know how to smile, got it.

“Show her what she’s going to be missing!”

Wait, what?

Before she can breathe another word, a cheap veil is clipped into her hair, and she’s being ushered up to the stage, and into a chair.

Again, she got enough of this in college. Those days are…far behind her.

Regardless, the twins dance around her, and, oh, they are, in fact, wearing cheesy, male stripper, tear-away pants. At least they’re not wearing g-strings? That would’ve been— way too much. Boxer briefs she can handle.

“North! Smack his ass!” 

Wait a minute.

First of all. Which one? 

“Give it to him!” 

She doesn’t want to give anybody anything. But instead of arguing, she’s lifting a hand and smacking the closest butt to her, and she— is feeling incredibly awkward. And she would very much so like to get down.

Mercifully, Kara waves her over.

It takes…several minutes for her to find an opening to make her escape, but when she does, she’s infinitely glad to be out of the stuffy bar and into the blessedly cool air of an Alaskan Afternoon. 

Her fingers itch for a cigarette, even though she’d curbed that habit ages ago. Still, she supposes that it’s muscle memory, a reaction to stress. And she could really, _really_ , use one right about now. 

“Hey…” Chloe breaks the blessed silence, but North doesn’t really have the heart to be mad even as she takes off that stupid veil. “How’re you holding up?”

“Oh, fine, fine…” she murmurs back. “Just…working on my tan.”

Ah, so she can still manage a sense of humor. She’s not that far gone.

Yet.

“Yeah, the uh…” Chloe begins with a chuckle. “The Manfreds can be a little overwhelming, at times.”

“Yes, yeah.” North finds herself agreeing, offering a breathless chuckle of her own. But they’re…nice. They put the ‘fun’ in ‘dysfunction’, as she overheard Markus saying.

“Guess it’s pretty different from Detroit, huh?”

“Little bit, little bit.” It’s strange…because North feels like she _should_ feel jealous of Chloe, goodness knows why, but she just…can’t. She’s too…genuinely nice. 

She’s someone Connor deserves.

“Ever been?” North asks, vehemently shoving _that_ nice little sentiment to the back of her mind.

“No.” Chloe laughs. “No, that was always Connor’s dream, not mine.”

“I, uh…I guess you two were pretty serious?” North prompts.

“I mean, I guess…I mean, we dated in high school, and all throughout college, but. We were just kids.”

But…eight years…they’d spent eight years of their lives together. That’s…why…?

“Why did you call it quits? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“I guess we just…wanted different things. Er…the night before graduation, he uh…he proposed, and asked me to run away with him, and I…said no.” somehow, it's hard for her to see Connor making a grand gesture like that. It must’ve taken a lot of courage…

He must’ve really loved her.

“I’ve never been anywhere but here.” she continues. “I’ve lived here my whole life. But it kinda turned out for the best, cause my dad got sick, and he needed me, so.”

Needed. As in past-tense. North winces to herself.

“I’m so sorry.” she says, and she means it. Chloe merely offers a small smile.

“He’s…yeah, he’s in a better place now, Dad.”

It’s something North told herself, and still tells herself often, about her mom. It hurts sometimes, still, and she knows Chloe will understand that. 

“Well. On a happier note.” she segues, and that’s another thing North can identify with. “You’re a lucky girl. Connor is…the best. Which, obviously, you already know.”

“I do.”

She surprises herself with the sincerity in her voice.

Because he is, isn’t he? And he’s handsome, and he’s…awkward, but charmingly so. He could have any girl he wanted, he could have _Chloe_ , beautiful, sweet, charming Chloe. But instead he’s allowing himself to be roped into this…stupid deal, so, what? So his boss can stay in the US? Who’s to even say Gavin would fire him? Maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d keep Connor on as _his_ assistant, because he’s petty like that. Connor…has a support system. Even if he does lose his job, he’s got his family to back him up. So why’s he going along with this, when he’s clearly miserable?

Suddenly, North feels rather sick to her stomach.

Seemingly sensing that North would rather be left alone, Chloe makes her excuses and heads back inside. 

She is…exceptionally glad when Carl and Alice come back around to pick them up. Chloe heads home, Carl’s wheelchair is secured in the boat aided by Luther, and they make their way back to the house in silence.

It’s when they’ve docked that they hear it. Gunshots. Despite North’s initial panic, Kara and Carl share twin sighs, as if this is nothing new.

“What’s…what’s going on?” she asks.

“Connor’s probably at the range.” Carl explains, gesturing to the back of the house. “It’s probably best to leave him alone.”

Markus and Seamus have trotted their way over, to help get the wheelchair out of the boat.

“You sure you want to marry into this family?” Markus murmurs to her.

“Why, what happened?” she prompts.

“Leo being Leo.” Seamus grumbles. When North finally looks up toward the house, she finds that Kara is already halfway there. “This happens a lot.”

“You guys have a shooting range?”

“Yeah. Connor’s really the only one that uses it. Besides Seamus here.” Markus says with a shrug. “And usually he’s gotta be pretty pissed to be at it this long.”

“How long has he been at it?” Carl’s asking, concerned.

“Since about…twenty minutes after you guys left?” 

“Jesus.”

By the time they reach the house, they can hear Kara shrieking away at Leo.

“Great, yeah, that’s perfect, Leo! Go ahead and insult his fiancé _to his face!_ Now we’ll never get to see him! He’s our brother too! And we never get to see him because every time you’re in the same room as him, all you do is beat him down! You’re the reason we never get to see him, Leo! And, _God forbid_ , he and North should have a baby we never get to see! You’re going to fix this. Because pretty soon here, it’s just going to be you, in this big house, all alone with everything you’re angry about.”

And she’d wondered who the oldest of the bunch was.

“I’m gonna…” she gestures to the stairs, and gets three knowing glances in return. “I had a lovely time today.” she says, sincerely. “Uh…tell Kara thank you, for me, if I don’t see her for the rest of the night.”

“We will.” Seamus ensures. “Go relax. You look like you need it.”

She all but bolts up to Connor’s old room and shuts herself in the bathroom.

She…while she showers off all of the Twins’ coconut body oil, her thoughts stray back to Kara’s words.

But see…it wasn’t just Leo’s fault, was it? Connor’s love for the rest of his family surely outshines the bad relationship he has with the (seemingly second to oldest) sibling. And from what she’s seen…he certainly loves his family very much. No, if anybody has been at fault, it’s North.

The nauseous feeling from earlier is back. And it stays until she’s turning off the water and searching for her towel.

And searching. And searching.

She…forgot her towel. There isn’t a linen closet in the bathroom. It’s in the bedroom, and she forgot.

That’s…perfect. 

Well…if she’s careful, it should be fine, right? The door is closed, anyway, and if Connor’s been at the range all day, surely he’ll stay for a while longer, right? Right. Okay, perfect. If she just opens the door…

And there’s Kodiak, wanting to play.

“Not now, puppy!” she chides. 

And yet, he doesn’t leave her alone. Everywhere she moves, he follows. She briefly considers scaring him away, but that’d be mean. He just wants to play. But now is _not the time_. 

Thinking quickly, she takes a running leap over him and runs into the room…

…and straight into a solid mass of Person. Literally. It takes her a moment to gather her bearings and come back to herself, but when she does, when she notices that Connor, who is right underneath her, is _just_ as naked as _she is_ , well. All hell breaks loose. It’s a wonder that nobody came to see what was wrong with all their shouting.

“Why are you _naked!?_ ” North shrieks.

“Why are you _wet!?_ ” Connor demands. 

“Don’t look at me!”

“I don’t understand! Why are you wet!?”

Yes, she heard him the first time. When she looks over to tell him as such, she really wishes she hadn’t.

“Oh, God, you’re showing everything. Put something on, for the love of God!” by the time she’s made it to the bed and yanked one of the blankets off to cover herself, Connor has, mercifully, wrapped a towel around his waist. “Explain yourself!”

“Me, explain myself!?”

“Yes, explain yourself!”

“I was outside!”

“Oh really, and you didn’t hear me!?”

“I had earbuds in! I— why are you even home!? Did you just— jump me out of nowhere, what the hell was that!?”

“I didn’t _mean_ to jump you!” North defends. “Kodiak wanted to play, but I forgot a towel, and so I ran, and I ran into you! Just, go! Go take a shower! You stink!”

“Jesus Christ.” Connor grunts. “Nice tattoo by the way.”

Immediately, her hand reaches to her shoulder to rub at the fading ink.

Can’t the floor just swallow her whole already?

* * *

It’s cold, and he’s tired, and he shouldn’t be out here. He shouldn’t even have bought a pack of cigarettes, but he _did_. In fact, back in Detroit before they left, he’d bought an entire carton and stashed it away in his luggage, and he commended himself for not opening it.

Until now.

The thing is, Connor had quit smoking while he was in college. Not worth it— paying so much money, to give himself a nicotine addiction and possible health risks later? Definitely not worth it. But after the…incident, earlier, he decides to go ahead and go for it. Why not?

“Didn’t know you smoked.” North comments from the doorway.

“I don’t.” he answers, as she moves over to sit across from him, and he blocks her view of the scenery she’d so admired on the balcony, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

“Great. Neither do I.” and she reaches for the freshly opened pack of cigarettes on the table. Connor huffs a breathless chuckle, but flicks the lighter on for her anyway, waiting until she’s taken a deep inhale before stuffing it back in his pocket.

“Drink?” he hadn’t noticed the bottle of scotch in her hand until just now, until she set it on the table. She must’ve bought it earlier— only Dad drinks scotch, in this household, and even then, this bottle isn’t his brand.

“Why the hell not. Did you bring any cups?”

“Cups are for pussies.”

There’s another half-laugh/nose exhale forcing its way out of him. He lets North have the first swig.

They don’t say anything for several minutes. North watches the ground, and Connor watches the smoke curl around them in the twilight. 

And really, it was all so ridiculous.

“So… _so_ naked.” he mutters.

“Let’s not talk about that.”

“Got it.”

There’s another beat of silence. They switch places; Connor watches the ground and North watches the smoke.

“So, uh…what’s the deal with you and your brother?”

No. No, he doesn’t want to discuss this right now.

“Ooh, I’m sorry.” he grumbles. “That question is not in the binder.”

“Hey, you were the one that said we needed to learn everything about each other.”

“Not about that.”

“But if the guy asks—,”

“Not about that, North.” and he wants to feel bad about saying it so severely, but he can’t find it in him to care, not even when she seems to withdraw into herself, not even as she chews her lip and fiddles with the ring— her mother’s, she had said— on her finger. The silence stretches on again, until it becomes uncomfortable.

“I used to do ballet.” she blurts out suddenly.

“Pardon?”

“Not like, ‘my parents made me do it and I begrudgingly complied until I liked it’ kind of way. I always wanted to be a ballerina. I found ways to pay for classes up until about college.” she doesn’t look at him, as she talks, thumbnail idly picking at the filter of her cigarette. “My…guilty pleasure show, for the longest time, was _What Not to Wear_. Still kinda is, if I’m honest. Um…I think Patrick Dempsey is sexy.” he can’t help but smile, at that one. So she is, after all, a Regular Woman™. “I’ve never been to a concert in my life, but I desperately wanted to see NSYNC when I was younger. I don’t like flowers in the house, because they remind me of funerals…um…”

She seems to not know what to say, after that.

“Sometimes I still stay up until one in the morning playing video games.” Connor offers. If North is laying herself bare, he might as well, too. “I read crime novels like they’re going out of style.” she looks up at him, then, offers a tiny smile, and he counts it as a small victory. “I…before Seamus and I were adopted, I was…bullied a lot, even here, which is so ridiculous because nobody here seems the bullying type. But that's...probably why I’m such a smartass, now. Neither of us remember our parents that well. Mom died just after Seamus was born and Dad just— gave us up, so. I heard he wasn’t the nicest guy, anyway.”

“I can relate to that.” North mutters, and she’s back to not meeting his eye. “I— some…things, happened to me, after Mom died, and a little bit before, I think. And I…try not to think about it, most of the time? It…I didn’t react like your ‘typical’ victim I guess. I dunno, I guess they say that you wind up either sex repulsed or sex obsessed, and…” there’s a shrug. “I guess I was the latter. I…pretty much slept my way through the college dorms almost until I graduated, and after a…certain scare I realized how unhealthy that lifestyle was so. I haven’t…slept with anybody since, really.”

That…isn’t something he expected out of her, truly. Looking at North, she seems like someone straight-laced, and one would never expect her to be any kind of rager, or throw herself into something like that. But, he supposes, everyone has their demons. He wants to press the issue, out of curiosity and concern, wants to find exactly where to find her father so he can have a Chat with him, but she looks so uncomfortable, so embarrassed, that when he changes the topic, it seems as if a physical weight is lifted off her shoulders.

“I’m still a virgin.” he admits. “I know, it’s…ridiculous. I’m in my thirties, and I’ve never…I don’t know. Chloe and I tried a couple times, but I was…a kid, really, I didn’t know what I was doing. I guess I just wanted it to mean something, or maybe I was just too focused on getting my degree and getting out of here. Workaholic, and all that. So. Yeah. Your turn.”

He’s gotten a lot of smiles out of her, these past couple days. But the one he gets from her, right then, that…is the most beautiful one. The corners of her mouth tick upwards just slightly, but her eyes…they shine with such a genuine warmth that his stomach flips. 

“I…” she stops to think, and when she grimaces at what she’s about to say next, he can’t help but miss that smile. “Went to the bathroom and cried after Gavin called me a poisonous bitch. Stupid. And the uh…the tattoo, on my shoulder. It’s a compass. I got it when I moved out on my own for the first time, when I was…twenty? I know, it’s on the nose. Compass, my name is North, but, I guess…I dunno, I wanted my life to have some direction, some meaning other than being the girl with the dead mom and…disgusting father. So. Compass. Your turn.”

Their cigarettes have burned down to the butts by now, and a third of the bottle of scotch is gone.

“I think that’s enough for now.” Connor whispers.

They don’t look away from each other, this time. And Connor, he doesn’t see her eyes for the first time, no, but he looks, really _looks_ _into_ them. He’d described them as deceptively doe-like, before, and…they are, but it’s not so much. He can see every ounce of vulnerability swimming in those amber depths, and…something else that he doesn’t know the name for. Or rather, he does, but he doesn’t want to name it. He wants to keep it a secret, even from himself. He doesn’t want to discover it, by playing detective, he realizes. He wants her to _tell_ him, to trust him enough to tell him, and he wants to guard it with his life.

“North, don’t take this the wrong way…” he starts. “But you are a very beautiful woman. And I think…any guy, at any time, that ever took you for granted is…a complete and total fool.”

“I…”

She doesn’t seem to know what to say.

She doesn’t have to say anything.

* * *

They shouldn’t be doing this, she knows. She shouldn’t be leaning in, she shouldn’t be meeting him in the middle for a long, slow kiss, she shouldn’t be shivering at the feeling of his hand cradling her head, at the thumb gently grazing her cheek. She shouldn’t be parting her lips to draw him deeper, and she certainly shouldn’t be moving into his lap to chase the feeling. 

But she is. 

And the thing is? She _wants_ to. And she— hasn’t wanted something as badly as this in a long time. So she allows herself to relish in the feeling of his hands slowly, almost timidly, sliding up her shirt, she allows herself to utter breathy encouragements, she allows herself to be ushered off his lap, and backwards into the bedroom and toward the bed.

But what she wants more than anything, is for Connor to want this too. Because Connor had told her, in confidence, that he’s inexperienced. Connor had told her, in confidence, that he wanted his first time to be special. Who doesn’t? Her own first experience had been terrifying and painful, and started her on a path of self-destruction, and because of that, because she hopes nobody, man or woman or anyone in between, ever has to feel that way, she wants to make this special for him. She wants him to give himself up willingly, as never got to. 

She wants Connor to trust her, as she trusts him.

“Are you sure?” she whispers to him, their faces inches apart, the scent of Marlboro cigarettes and cheap scotch mingling in the air between them. 

“I am.” he whispers back, and she closes her eyes as he nuzzles her cheek with his own. It’s such an…affectionate gesture that she’s afraid she might tear up. “What about you? Are you sure?”

“I am.”

And just like that, she gives herself to him, wholly and completely.

He doesn’t just take, and take, and take. He gives, and thus he receives. For someone so inexperienced he pays a lot of attention to detail. He listens to her, and not just the words she speaks. He listens to the inaudible parts of her, he listens to her body, and she listens back. It’s a dance, and it’s not like anything she’s ever experienced. He’s so…different from every other man she’d been with. 

And she feels beautifully vulnerable.

Everything is for Him. Her whispers, and her sighs, her kisses, and her touches, are all for him, for Connor. And he accepts them graciously. 

And he gives himself to her, in return. She feels…incredibly lucky, for it. He’s beautiful, not just in body, but in mind and in spirit, he’s breathtaking, and he’s chosen North, _North,_ to share this with. And she knows, from this moment on, she’s ruined for anyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See ya tomorrow, trash pandas!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's a life without guilt?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!!!!!!!!!! it's been— literally months OOPS. I'm so sorry I've not been working on this very much it's just— Oof. I haven't worked on this since my girlfriend and I broke up so you can probably guess how I've been *finger guns*
> 
> No but in all seriousness I swear I'm good I've just been busy. And starting next month and into January hopefully I'll be busier with a new job and then eventually school. woot! \o/

It’s rare or Connor to wake up like this.

In fact, Connor has never woken up like this in his life. He finds he quite likes it. The sun shines on his face, not in an irritating way, but in a way that warms him. The breath that tingles his neck isn’t uncomfortable, but a comforting presence that nearly pulls him back to sleep. The soft, feminine body pressed up against his under the covers isn’t completely horrible, either.

He wants to go back to sleep, but at the same time, he doesn’t. He’s alright to drift like this, in the in-between, for as long as he can. There’s an almost giddy feeling that bubbles up inside him, at the thought that…this could very well be a regular thing, with North. Pressed up against each other, in the morning light. No rush, just…Them. He’d even happily give up the events that lead up to this, if it meant he could still hold her like thisl to see her features bathed in the soft morning light.

And then…it sinks in.

What had lead up to this revelation.

What they had done last night.

He feels…sick to his stomach. Not because he regrets it, no. Well, maybe. He just…he feels as if he might have taken advantage of the situation. She’d…laid out the pieces of herself, allowed him to put her back together again, and he’d…

Oh God…

And how, exactly, does that make him better than those guys from her college days?

His spiralling thoughts are abruptly brought to a halt, when North blinks her amber eyes open and smiles that captivating smile of hers from last night.

“G’morning.” she murmurs.

“Hi.” he whispers back.

She seems content to close her eyes again, to snuggle in further, and before the panic can begin to ebb or flow, because it was bound to do one of the two, there’s a knock at the door.

“Room service!” Kara calls cheerily from behind the door. Immediately, Connor tenses, and grapples for any article of clothing, if not for himself, then to preserve North’s modesty.

“Ah…just a second!” he calls. “Here, uh…here.” he’s not sure whose shirt he handed to her, but she’s giving him a smirk as she slips it over her head, so in all honesty, it’s probably his.

The door begins to open just as North has herself halfway dressed, and Connor settles for making doubly sure the blankets are safely hiding…sensitive areas from sight. And it’s a good thing, too, because Kara is giving him a knowing look, and yeah, she’s known him since he was a toddler but _still_. 

“Cinnamon rolls…?” he comments, if only to get that _smirk_ off his sister’s face. North seems to notice the tray in Kara’s hands for the first time.

“You…shouldn’t have gone to all that trouble.” she says, but she seems touched. “What time is it? How early did you have to get up?”

“Oh, it’s no trouble.” Kara insists, and Connor immediately notes that she skillfully dodged North’s question. So…really early.

Just when Connor thinks his sister is going to set the tray in her hands down and leave them in peace, Dad wheels himself in, followed closely by Seamus and Markus.

“Hi, okay, can we not do the Brady Family Meeting right now?” Connor barks, and he doesn’t mean to, but he just woke up and he’s Confused. “We just woke up.”

“We had an idea.” Seamus is saying, ignoring him, and the grin he’s wearing practically splits his face wide open. Kara bursts out with,

“We think you should get married here! Tomorrow!”

“And that way, Dad can be a part of it.” Markus finishes. Dad just grins that blinding grin at them.

“Wha— no, no, it’s Carl’s big birthday party tomorrow.” North says, and Connor is grateful that she’s the other one with some reason in this room.

“Oh, please. I’ve had sixty some-odd birthday parties.” Dad says, with a wave of his hand. “I don’t need another.”

“I…” North begins, and Connor can practically see the wheels turning in her head. No, come on! He was under the impression they were going to do a simple wedding. Signing papers at the courthouse or something. “I’m strangely comfortable with it.” of course she is. “But, Carl, if you’re sure—,”

“Completely.” Dad assures. “Honestly, we’re even just happy Connor’s getting married at all. We always just figured that if he did, he would elope and not tell anyone.”

Shots have been fired. Man down, _man down!_

It wasn’t completely unfounded, but _rude_. Had he been talking to Chloe?

“You can get married in the barn, like Luther and I did!” Kara suggests.

“It’s a family tradition.” Dad proclaims.

Now, _now_ North seems to grasp that she might be in over her head. Connor certainly feels like he is.

“Oh…! Great! I’ve…always wanted to get married in a barn!” she says, and her enthusiasm is forced and awkward, but hasn’t it been so for this entire trip?

“Same…same here.” Connor murmurs.

“Soulmates.” Markus teases. “Soulmates, I tell you.”

If anything else, at least North seems to share that awkward laugh with him while everyone else beams at them.

He waits until the door is closed, after his family members have left, before he lets the panic sink in once more.

“Oh…my God.” he breathes. “Oh my _God!_ ”

“Connor?”

“When my sister finds out this was a sham she’ll…she’s gonna be crushed! My dad’s gonna _die!_ ”

“Hey, Con, calm down, okay? Nobody’s going to find out.”

“And _Markus_ , what the hell is with him and the soulmates thing!?”

“Connor, breathe, kid. Relax. It’s fine.” a pair of gentle hand accompany North’s soft voice, gently rubbing circles into his back. “Ten years will be over before you know it. We’ll be happily divorced in no time. Nobody’s going to find out.”

(Why did the mention of their imminent divorce, before they’re even _married_ , make his gut clench? Oh. That’s right. He’s fucking in love with her. Perfect.)

“Yeah…” he murmurs. “Yeah. You’re right.”

Just relax, Connor. Relax.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

There’s a stretch of silence, and briefly it reminds Connor of the night before. North’s hands stay on his back, still rubbing those small circles.

Just a few moments longer like this, in their bubble, where nobody can touch them. That’s all he wants.

But eventually, she does move, much to his chagrin, but she seems like she’s having a hard time pulling away, for what it’s worth. Maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

“Latte?” she teases, grabbing the coffee pot from the tray. He forces a laugh, not because it’s not funny, but because, well, she looks ever so distracting. His shirt falls to her mid-thigh, her hair falls over her shoulders in wavy tresses, and all he can think about is how it had fanned out on the pillow, around her head like a halo, as she sighed his name, and—

He violently pulls himself out of those thoughts. Eye on the prize, Connor. Marry North, become editor, go your separate ways, no matter how much it hurts. Because that’s what she wants. That’s what’s best for her.

And Connor’s finding— he only wants what’s best for her. Even if it hurts him in the process, and ain’t that the way?

“Yeah, you’re right.” he repeats. “We’ll get a quickie divorce, it’ll be fine.”

“Exactly! Now, in the meantime.” she pads back over, coffee cup and plate of cinnamon rolls in hand. “I’m gonna have to learn how to cook. Keep my man fed, y’know? Don’t want you leaving me for another woman.” she jokes.

“Haven’t left you yet, North.” he says.

(It’s time to decide if he ever will, if he’ll ever be willing.)

Kara’s cinnamon rolls, at least, provide a happy distraction. Her recipe gets better and better, each time, he swears.

North eyes him strangely for a minute, and before he can try to read that look in her eye, she says,

“I’m gonna get changed and go outside. Just, y’know, get some fresh air.”

“Alright.”

And just like that, he’s alone with his thoughts.

* * *

  


God, okay, this was _not_ in the plan. None of this was in the plan. She certainly hadn’t planned on the nausea that came with the mention of the word ‘divorce’ every time they threw it around. And what’s more, she hadn’t planned on…the events that had taken place the night before.

She hates herself for it. She’d worked so hard to better herself, to stop finding distractions in warm bodies and bedsheets. But she did what she’s always done, and she used Connor, like she’s always used him. Except now? Now she’s passed the point of no return. Now she’s gone and pull-vaulted over that line. Because when Connor was being who she needed in that moment, she took advantage as quickly as she could, and he’d given something to her that she could never give back.

(Never mind the fact that it felt so vastly different from every other time. Never mind the fact that it didn’t make her try to change what her father did, or take something back, or try to forget about it, but rather made her feel like it didn’t _matter_ , like she’s more than her past. Never mind the fact that Connor made her feel beautiful, made her feel wanted, made her feel whole, for once in her life.)

The thought that Connor deserves someone better than North is sudden and poisonous. It wraps around her like a serpent, it steals her breath from her lungs, and it _hurts_. It hurts because she wants to be good for him. She wants to be a good wife. She wants him to love her. She doesn’t want to love him, because when she reviews the facts, when she reviews this weekend, even the last three years, she realizes she already loves him. She doesn’t want to love him because she feels so overwhelmingly selfish, and if she couldn’t let him go as her _assistant_ , if she’s that dependent on him by nature, how is she ever going to let him go as her husband?

It would’ve been better for everyone if she gave up back in Detroit.

“Hey, you okay?”

She nearly screams at the sudden voice behind her. Instead, she turns around and offers a disarming smile to Markus.

“Hey, yeah, I’m fine.”

“Somehow I get the feeling that’s a lie. Walk with me?”

“Uh…”

“I won’t take too much of your time, I promise.”

In the end, they wind up walking side by side, through a forest path. It really is so beautiful out here…

“So, not gonna lie.” Markus starts, about ten minutes into their walk. “I was a little concerned, at first, to know Connor was dating his boss.” oh. “No, sorry, it’s just…he’s always thrown himself into his work. I was just worried that this…relationship was one-sided on your part.”

He’s not wrong, that’s the thing.

“But, I see the way he looks at you, North. And if I’m honest, I’ve never seen him look at anyone that way.” Markus continues. “It’s like he’s always seeing you for the first time, and I’ve never seen anything like that out of him. He and Seamus— well, they were the last to come live with us. And Connor was always a bit more…cut off, I guess. It was rare to see any emotion at all out of him. Foster kid, it happens a lot. But you…bring out that other side of him so much more than any of us are used to. Just this trip alone is the most I’ve seen him smile or laugh as much as he has. So I guess…I just want to say thank you, from all of us. For being here, with him, for him. You’re a wonderful woman, North, and I’m glad he has you.”

God. If only he knew.

“I’m…incredibly lucky to have him.” she says, quietly. “He’s…to say he’s a great guy would be a severe understatement.”

Which is the truth. Oh, and now she’s crying. That really came out of nowhere. Markus, thankfully, says nothing about it, and instead offers a warm smile.

“I’m happy for you guys. You seem like a good match to me.”

They finish their walk in relative silence, and by the time they get back, Connor is waiting for them on the front porch. And has she mentioned before how much she loves him in glasses, or how much she loves his curls? Because she really does.

“Talking about me?” he teases, and North would give anything to see that small quirk of his lips, dorky and awkward but so very handsome at the same time, every day of her life.

“Always.” Markus responds. “You’ve got an incredible woman here, Con. You’re a very lucky man.”

“I know.” his voice is so soft, so sincere, as he says it, and North wants to feel all aflutter about it, but she can’t. Not when she’s treated him the way she has.

He grins as Markus pats his back on the way by. North loves it. She wants to see it more. She probably won’t.

“So your new phone came in.” Connor tells her. “Wanna go into town and pick it up?” Oh, good, a distraction.

“Yes, yeah, I wanna go.”

She’s even getting used to being on the boat without a life jacket, look at her.

Even if the walk to the general store is silent, even if she finds herself trying to keep her distance, lest she want to do something stupid like hold his hand or something, it’s…nice, she supposes. Perfectly nice and perfectly normal. No unrequited love, here. Absolutely not. 

She immediately cringes when Connor greets the cashier, and she recognizes the name Simon from the bachelorette party she’d rather not think about. Mercifully, he merely offers her a friendly smile and a wave, and doesn’t speak to her as she follows Connor about the store.

She notes with amusement, that he’s packing a bag full of junk food.

“What are you, like, twelve?” she teases.

“Oh, yeah.” he teases back, and she doesn’t (shouldn’t) love that smirk. Nope. “But fun fact about Connor number eleven, I like Hot Cheetos, I think they’re delicious, all Hostess products except for Snoballs, always Pepsi over Coke, aaaaaand I don’t like popcorn because I don’t like when the shucks get stuck in my teeth.”

“Mmhm, yeah, and does this make it easier or harder to feed you, since you have the palette of a child?”

“Very funny. Alright, Miss Thing, tell me about _your_ favorite snacks, then, and see if they’re not remarkably similar.”

Her favorite snacks…

“Pretzels.” she answers almost immediately. “And cashews, but like…salt and vinegar cashews. Ironically, Snoballs are among the only Hostess products I enjoy, save for Twinkies. But my all time favorite snack, is what all of us nineties kids loved, and now mourn the loss of.”

“Dunkaroos?”

“Dunkaroos.”

“Man, I miss those…”

“Right!? They still sell them in the Motherland, I believe.”

“Do they really…?”

“They do. And here I am trying to avoid going back.”

He looks like he very much wants to laugh, cheeks puffing out as he snorts.

“Fake fan.” he accuses playfully.

“Nah, I’ll just have one of my friends from college smuggle them over.”

“Now that’s what we call, ‘risk it for the biscuit.’”

“I— despise that.” but she’s chuckling either way. “Anyway. How much do I owe you for the phone?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Connor—!”

“No, seriously. Dad will have a cow if he finds out you even attempted to pay us back. Come on.”

“Okay…”

As soon as North has the phone on, activated, and pressed to her ear, she’s assaulted with several missed calls and messages.

“Oh good God.” she groans. “I don’t think Ralph got my email. Out of thirty seven messages, thirty of them are his.”

“On top of shit service, our wifi at the house is kinda sucky too.” he admits. “Here, right this way.”

She has an ounce of hope when she sees the Internet Cafe.

All her hopes and dreams are dashed as soon as she’s sitting in front of a computer from the nineties, and she’s being handed dimes.

“When it runs out, it gives you a warning. Just put more of these in.”

“You’re joking. Dimes?”

“What, you didn’t want another nineties throwback? You’ll be fine, I’ll be right outside.” she notes that he’s distracted, but doesn’t dare follow his line of sight. She barely gets another word out of him, before he’s jogging out the door.

“Okay, North.” she mumbles. “You can do this. You’re an intelligent woman, you’ve got this.”

True to Connor’s word, it’s a proper throwback. She nearly jumps at the sudden and familiar sound of dial-up internet. 

As she’s waiting for the internet speed to register her work email login, she dares to glance outside. When she lays her eyes on Connor, talking to Chloe and actually _enjoying_ himself, the jealousy she feels is sudden, and poisonous, and _ugly_ , but fleeting. When it settles, she’s filled with this…empty feeling. Part sadness, part guilt. Sadness, because North could never be a Chloe. She could never be sweet, and smiling, and affectionate, and outgoing in a _nice_ way. Guilt, because Connor _deserves_ a Chloe. He deserves to be with someone who makes him smile like that, someone that makes him tip his head back and laugh like that. And here North is, trapping him for ten years, depriving him of such, just so, what, she can keep her job as an editor? There’s plenty of firms in Canada, and in the States should she ever come back, that would hire her.

Despite Chloe’s protests, North realizes, she and Connor damn well belong together. She said they’d wanted different things, and the differences were too vast for them to work, but…that was years ago. People change. The sooner they get this divorce, the better. North can move on, infatuation be damned, and Connor can find a Chloe. She can do that one selfless thing.

Although, she supposes, selfless would be accepting her fate, and keeping Connor out of this mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see y'all soon, since I plan on binge writing this :*


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stupid accidents? A whole habit for these two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SCREE HELLO. I is almost done, all I've got left is the epilogue :D which is a pain in the ass, as epilogues tend to be, but hey, there's one more chapter before that so I've got a couple of days, right? ^^;
> 
> anyhoo, please enjoy.

Crisis averted, North and Connor once again walking side-by-side to the docks (but she can’t help but notice the cavernous distance between them, seeing as how she put it there.), she prompts,

“It must be nice seeing Chloe again after so long.”

“Yeah…” he murmurs, smiling softly. “It’s been a long time. It’s nice to catch up.”

“She looked really pretty today.”

“She did, yeah.”

“Connor…” if she doesn’t say this now, it’s going to eat her up inside.

“Yeah?”

“I—,”

“North! There you are!” they both turn to see Seamus and Kara sprinting towards them, little Alice in tow.

“Here I am!” She calls back.

“We’ve been looking for you!” Kara pants, the moment she catches up.

“You have?”

“We’ve come to steal you away.” Seamus says. “And Kara promises that there will be no strippers involved, this time.”

“But not you.” Kara says to Connor. “It’s— boring, you’d hate it.”

Thus, they pull North away from her betrothed, leaving him with a strange look on his face, that she would’ve caught if she’d turned around to look at him in lieu of asking if her shoes were okay for what they were doing.

And that is how she finds herself in a tailor shop, pulling on silk fabric as Seamus says from the other side of the curtain,

“Don’t worry about the fit, dear. Kara is the best tailor in Southeast Alaska.”

“Oh, stop.” Kara admonishes, fondly.

The dress she’s been voluntold to put on is, in a word? Breathtaking. It fits…almost perfectly. If a tad loose in certain areas.

Almost shyly, she steps out from behind the curtain, unsure what to say, or do. Kara’s eyes are absolutely sparkling.

“My great grandmother made his dress by hand for my grandmother’s wedding.” she says. And suddenly, the room feels very hot. “I never wore it for mine, because I didn’t think I could pull it off, but it looks stunning on you.”

“It really does.” Seamus agrees, smiling gently.

“And the adjustments shouldn’t be too terribly hard.” Kara murmurs. “Gran was a bit chesty to begin with, but we can work with this.”

The shop is silent, for a while, as Kara focuses on pinning the fabric down. And even though the pins are still sort of visible, North feels…she feels beautiful. And she hasn’t felt that way in a while. Not until last night, at least.

“So…” Kara starts, as the last pin is put in placed. “I was wondering…maybe we could come your way for the holidays?”

“Yeah…” North murmurs. And then, without thinking, “Or we could come to you.”

Kara immediately freezes, and for a moment, North thinks she said something wrong.

“I— we’d like that.” she chokes out, seemingly happy tears brimming in her eyes. “We’d like that very much.” She composes herself after a moment, taking a deep breath, and wiping the tears from her eyes before they can spill. “Right then. We’ve got a lot of work to do. But…one more piece.”

From a box, she pulls a simple, small necklace, and latches it around North’s neck.

“This has been in the family since…forever. Dad’s great grandfather made it for his great grandmother. It looks rather nice on you, actually.”

It’s a beautiful antique, one that North doesn’t want to touch for fear that it’d crumble into dust.

“You should keep it.”

“Kara, I can’t—,”

“You can, and you will.” she insists. “It doesn’t go with anything I wear, and I know Dad would be telling you the same thing as me. Or say something like ‘Old men love giving things to their children, it means they’ll still be part of your lives after they’re gone’, or something like that.”

“No, that’s word for word, what he would say.” Seamus chuckles.

North refuses to acknowledge the tears in her eyes, even as she finds herself choked up as she tries to speak.

To their credit, the siblings don’t comment on it.

God, she feels worse and worse, by the hour.

***

Connor is half asleep by the time North comes running down the docks. Her footsteps pounding on the wooden boards rouses him, and he immediately moves to start the boat and untie it. She says nothing as she hops into the boat, and he thinks nothing of it.

He’s just barely got the last rope loosened, before the boat lurches forward, and Connor just barely manages to save himself from falling in.

“Hey, hey!” he shouts over the roar of the engine. “What the hell is wrong!?”

“I just needed to get away from everyone!” from what he can hear, she sounds rather desperate.

“North, what’s wrong!?”

“Nothing! Just— stop talking, please!”

She’s not the best sailor in the world, that much is obvious, and Connor clings on for dear life as they speed through the water. Several moments pass before he deems it safe to speak.

“Mind telling me what the hell is going on?”

Silence.

“North!”

Nothing.

“ _North!_ ” he almost feels bad when he sees her flinch.

“I _forgot_ , okay!?”

“You forgot _what?_ ”

“I forgot what it was like to have a family! I’ve been on my own since I was a teenager, and I forgot what it was like to have people _love_ you and make you cinnamon rolls, and say ‘Hey, why don’t we come up for the holidays?’ and you say ‘Well, why don’t we come see you?’, and give you necklaces! And you _have_ all that here, and you have Chloe, and I’m just _screwing it all up_ for you!”

He— certainly wasn’t expecting that. Desperately needing to quell her fears, he yells back,

“You’re not screwing anything up, I agreed to this! You were there, remember!?”

 _You’re not screwing anything up, Chloe’s an old friend and I_ ** _love_** _you, North, and I don’t want to lose you_.

“Your family loves you, do you know that!?”

“I know that!”

“You know that!? And you’re still willing to put them through this!”

“They’re not going to find out!”

“How do you _know!?_ ”

“Because you said so yourself!”

Her next response, he barely hears, because she chooses that exact moment to step away from the wheel, and has him grappling to keep them on course.

“What if Carl finds out?” she continues shrieking. He takes a look back at her, as she says, “He’s gonna have a heart attack!”

“No he won’t! It’s gonna be fi— hold on!” as he’d turned back around, he’d found that they were headed right for a buoy. Jerking the wheel to make a sharp turn, he waits until they’re safely away before he continues. “You know, I don’t think that hijacking a boat is a proper way to express your frustration!” silence, again. “North!?” still nothing. “Oh, _now_ you shut up!”

And then, faintly,

“Connor!”

When he turns around again, his heart stops. Floating in the water, his fianèe, who doesn’t know how to swim, looks like she’s starting to go under. Immediately, he turns around, yelling, “To the buoy! Try to get to the buoy!” but she can’t swim, she can’t _swim_ , she’s going to drown!

Thankfully, though, she reaches it, wet, shaking hands clinging as hard as they can. They’re not, so to speak, out of the water yet. He still has to get her into the boat, but, at least he bought them some time.

“Grab my hand.” he urges, as he brings the boat to a stop. She’s shaking her head, and he knows she’s not just trembling from the cold. “North, trust me. Grab my hand. You can do it, sweetheart, grab my hand!” It seems like an eternity before her delicate, shaking hand reaches out towards his and grasps it, and he’s pulling her in, murmuring, “I’ve got you. It’s okay. It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

Thankfully, Kara seems to have left one of her sweaters in the boat, so he wraps it around her shoulders. For extra measure, he pulls his hoodie off and wraps that around her, as well.

“The hell were you thinking?” he asks, gently. “You could’ve been killed.”

“You tu-urned the boat, and made me fall in y-you jackass.” it seems as though she’s attempting to make a joke, but he’s not having it.

“You stepped away from the wheel, genius.” as soon as the layers are situated over her, he wastes no time in wrapping his arms around her. “Alright, you’ve gotta get warm. Let’s just stay here, until you get warm, okay?” rubbing his shoulder, he murmurs again, “You’re okay…you’re alright.”

It seems like an eternity before they finally get back to the house. Both of them trudge their way down the deck, North intent on taking a hot shower and Connor intent on having a smoke as soon as he’s able.

Leo, the absolute _last_ person he wants to even look at right now, greets them at the end of the dock with,

“I want to talk to both of you.”

North and Connor share a nervous glance, and to quell her nerves (though if she asked he’d say it was to make sure she actually was warm enough), he wraps an arm around her shoulder, and tries very hard not to think about the fact that it seems to work.

The moment the trio steps into the barn, Connor’s eyes fall on a damnably familiar face, and he can feel North tense immediately against him.

“Leo.” Connor says, lowly. “What did you do.”

“I got a phone call from Mr. Allen.” he reports. “He tells me that, if you’re lying, and he strongly believes you are, you could go to prison. So I flew him up here.”

Oh, and Connor is _livid_. His hand grips North’s shoulder with more force than he meant, and it’s not until her hand comes to sit on his chest that he loosens his hold.

“Luckily for you.” Allen cuts in. “Your brother negotiated a deal, on your behalf.”

“Did he now.” it’s a statement, more so than a question, and the only thing keeping him from snapping, is North’s head resting tiredly against him.

“This offer isn’t going to last long, so, I’d make a quick decision, if I were you.” this time, both of them bristle. “You’re going to make a statement, admitting this marriage is a sham. Ms. Mills here will be deported, and you’ll be off the hook.”

He looks at his brother and then to Allen, and both of them look so _smug_ he could just about punch them He looks at North, who he almost _lost_ half an hour ago, leaning tiredly against him, the ring on her pale hand glinting off the low lighting of the barn.

“You want a statement?” he asks, calmly as he can. “Here’s your fucking statement.”

“Connor, baby—,”

“I’ve been working for North Mills for three years now. About a year ago, we started dating, and we fell in love. Six months after that I asked her to marry me and she said yes. Now if you don’t mind, my fiancée almost drowned a moment ago, and I’d very much like to make sure she’s okay. See you at the wedding, _bro_.”

And with that, he leads North back to the house, barn door slamming shut behind him.

* * *

She’s having an awfully hard time processing this.

She had her chance to speak up, to urge Connor to tell the truth, but she chickened out in the moment, too shook up from what happened and much too happy to take comfort in the solid and warm person she was clinging to. And what he said…she was almost scared by how convincing he’d sounded.

She jumps when the door slams behind them, and immediately, Connor flounces out to the balcony, snatching up the forgotten pack of cigarettes from last night and immediately lighting up. Desperately wanting to warm up and clean off all the salt water, she lets him be for now and heads to the shower.

He’s still out there when she gets out, she notices. His back is turned to her, and she deems it safe to change in the room. Not that it’s anything he hasn’t seen before, anyway. Clad in the warmest pajamas she brought, with a hoodie for extra measure, she steps out and sits across from him, as he lights up two more cigarettes and hands one over to her.

“So…” she murmurs, gratefully accepting the stick. “You sure about this?”

“Not really.” he breathes, smoke falling from his nose and mouth as he speaks, and leans his head back. It’s silent, for several moments, both of them smoking and not knowing what to say, when North murmurs,

“Look, I’m very...very appreciative, for everything you’ve done, but I think that—,”

“You’d do the same for me.” he interrupts, and North refuses to read into that look in his eye.

But the thing is…she wouldn’t have, a week ago. Maybe she would’ve, she doesn’t know.

“Hope everyone is decent!” Kara calls from somewhere inside the room. Connor quickly moves to stamp the rest of his cigarette out, but it seems in vain. “Connor James Manfred!” Kara gasps. “I thought you quit!”

“I did, but…”

“They’re mine.” North answers, cutting him off. “I don’t smoke much really, but I brought a couple packs with me. And after what happened this afternoon, he looked like he needed one, too.” Connor gives her an appreciative glance at the lie.

“What happened this afternoon…?” Kara pries.

“Just— stupid accident. I fell out of the boat.”

“Kinda shook us up a bit.” Connor continues, and at Kara’s startled look, he’s quick to add, “She’s fine, just…well, obviously shaken.”

“Right…” Kara murmurs. “Well I’m glad you’re okay, but, Connor, you’ve got to come with me, dear. Wedding tradition and all that.”

“Sis, I don’t think that—,”

“You’ve got your whole lives to be together! Come on!”

They watch her leave, and there’s so many things North longs to say, but she can’t.

“If I don’t go with her, she’s just gonna…” Connor starts.

“Come right back.” North finishes with a whisper.

“Yeah.” neither of them say much. Both of them want to. “I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Yeah.”

This is _real_ she realizes. This is _happening_. And the thing is, she wants it so very badly. And yet, she doesn’t know if Connor wants this too. He agreed, yes, that much is true. But wouldn’t he rather be with someone he loves? Wouldn’t he rather be with someone who, in ten years time won’t cling hopelessly to him and come up with some other elaborate plan or reason why they shouldn’t get divorced?

She needs to put a stop to this, she thinks. Better to break her own heart than risk Connor going to prison, than to risk breaking his family’s heart when they find out that this was a sham.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not gonna lie, I finally gave up and just copy/pasted and then edited the last chapter from when I wrote this with Markus and Connor, so if you read that one as well, and it seems familiar to you, that would be why.
> 
> I am definitely going to get sued by Paramount, or whoever did that movie.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> North does what she's always done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And 'tis the end! Only ze epilogue! which is still a pain in my ASS but I'm— I'm trying. I'll get there. maybe.

The entire damn town showed up, North thinks. At least, enough of the town to fill the barn. Like any girl, she always dreamed that her wedding would be perfect. All the elements are there, at least. Kara, true to her word, tailored the dress to her perfectly, the veil she wears is still in pristine condition, from all those years ago, the barn was all but transformed and it looks positively magical, the necklace North was given gleams in the soft lighting. And, although it’s impossible for her family to be there, the family of the man she’d fallen helplessly in love with is there, and they all, save for Leo, look exceedingly happy for them. It has all the makings to be perfect.

Except for the fact that she feels like they shouldn’t be doing this, except for the dread, and the doubt, weighing her down. That puts a damper on things, certainly. She wants this to be great. She wants this to feel good. She’s marrying the man of her dreams, after all. But as Seamus delivers her down the aisle, as she catches sight of Connor, impeccably dressed, his suit freshly pressed, and as she catches sight of Carl, and Markus, and Kara, all such sweet and genuinely kind people, beaming at her and beaming at Connor, all she can feel in the moment is the crushing weight of all her guilt.

Allen smirks at her, as if he can read her thoughts, and really, why is he there? But Chloe looks like an absolute vision in her navy blue dress, and suddenly all North could think about, is that it should be her in this place. Chloe should be the one walking down the aisle to her betrothed, Chloe is the one Connor should unveil to the world and to the eyes of God, and maybe then, he’d be happy. Maybe then, he’d be smiling that blinding smile of his, instead of the grim and serious look he’s wearing now.

“Everyone, please be seated.” 

Seamus leaves her with Connor and the officiant at the altar, and the moment itself, as Connor lifts the veil, feels beautiful. It feels good.

It shouldn’t.

“We are gathered here today,” the officiant starts, “To witness one of life’s greatest moments. And to celebrate the beauty, honesty, and selflessness of the love that these two share, in front of family and friends.” North feels like she might be sick. There’s nothing honest or selfless about what’s happening right now. And though North loves him, really, truly loves him, it’s not what Connor deserves. “For it was family who taught North and Connor to love, so it’s only fitting that—,”

North holds a hand up to stop him. She can’t do this, she won’t do this. She’s not going to make Connor miserable for the next ten years.

“I’m sorry.” she says. “I just…I need to say something.”

“North…” Connor hisses. North just offers a sad smile and shakes her head, before turning to address the wedding guests. She can do this one thing, to repay him for the last three years. It certainly isn’t enough.

“Hello, everyone. Uh...thank you all for coming, but...I have a confession I’d like to make.” she says.

“North, what are you doing?” Connor whispers. It’s probably best to ignore him.

“I’m a Canadian.” she says, shrugging and forcing a smile. “But my visa was expired, and I was about to be deported.” she stares at the ground, refuses to meet anyone’s eye. “So I forced Connor here to marry me.”

“North, stop it.”

“See, Connor has always had this incredible work ethic. Something I think he learned from his family.” _No, North, don’t cry_. “And, for three years, I…watched him work harder than anyone. So, I knew if I threatened his career, he’d do just about anything. So I…blackmailed him, into coming up here to lie to you.” it hurts her to say, but it’s the truth, isn’t it? “And in all honesty, I thought it’d be easy to watch him do it.” she smiles weakly at the ground. “But, you know, as it turns out, it’s really hard to ruin someone’s life after you realize what an amazing person they are.” she doesn’t mean to, but she slips, and lets one stupid tear roll down her face. Forcing the rest away, she wills herself to look at the Manfred family, who, (again, save for Leo) for very good reason, all look heartbroken. 

“You have a beautiful family.” North tells them. “Don’t let anything come between that.” she thinks about what Kara had said, about giving heirlooms to family, to feel like you’d still be part of their lives. So she turns to Connor as she slips her mother’s ring off her finger. Maybe it’s selfish to hope that she’ll somehow remain a part of his life, after everything. “I’m sorry, Connor.” she murmurs, and he looks…hurt, confused, _sad_. She knows she’s doing the right thing by letting him go. “For everything.” as she pulls his hand toward her, and places the ring in his palm, she allows herself to press a soft kiss to her cheek, and curls his fingers around the ring.

Steeling herself, she breezes her way back down the aisle, barely giving Perkins a passing glance as she barks, 

“You, meet me at the docks. You’re giving me a ride to the airport.”

It’s only after she’s left the building that she allows herself to break down into bitter tears.

* * *

Connor doesn’t know how long he stands there, stuck on stupid and rooted to the spot, staring blankly down at his fist, cheek buzzing where North had kissed him. Gingerly, he uncurls his fingers from his palm and stares at the ring, instead. Vaguely, he’s aware of the barn descending into subtle chaos.

“What the hell were you thinking!?” Markus is demanding.

“Why would you _lie_ about something like this!?” Kara adds.

“Hold on!” Connor hears himself speak, but doesn’t remember consciously forming the words. “Just let me get my shit together.”

He wants to sprint to the house, he wants to stop North from leaving, but all he can manage is a half walk, half stumble. He jogs to his room, and he knows in his heart that it’s too late, but that doesn’t stop the dread from seeping into his bones as he catches sight of the dress she’d looked so dazzling in, laid across the bed, the necklace that Kara gave her sitting on top. Next to it, lays a familiar manuscript, and clipped to that, a note, with his name written in neat print.

With shaking hands, he yanks it from underneath the binder clip, and reads.

_You were right. This book is special. I lied, because I knew it meant losing you as an assistant. But, you have an incredible eye, and I’ll make sure we buy this before I leave._

_I’m sorry, Connor. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this. I shouldn’t have done a lot of things, really. But what I really shouldn’t have done was let myself become the person that I am. I’m certain my mom would’ve loved you, and I know they would’ve hated to see me treat you the way I have for the past three years._

_I shouldn’t have let it get as far as it did the other night. But, you were what I needed in that moment and I used you, like I always did. You deserve so much better than that. You deserve a good spouse, someone to make you happy. I couldn’t give you that, so I’m giving you your chance to find it._

_Have an amazing life, Connor. You deserve that, more than anything._

_Yours,_

_North._

Connor stares in disbelief, reading and re-reading the note in disbelief.

That…absolute… _bitch!_

“Hey.” Chloe’s soft voice at the door has him all but flinching. “That was…something. You okay?” briefly, Connor considers lying. He didn’t even want to get married anyway, he—

“No.” he says, instead. “I just feel like…you know what the problem is, Chloe? The problem, is that this woman is a gigantic pain in my _ass_.” Chloe smiles gently, at that. “I mean, yeah, I understand leaving. It’s a sham wedding, kinda stressful. But then, _then_ , she goes ahead and leaves this note.” he brandishes it for emphasis. “She doesn’t even have the common fucking _decency_ to say it to my _face_! For three god damn years, this… _witch_ , she doesn’t have a single nice thing to say. And then she goes ahead and writes this _shit!_ ” with more force than necessary, he crumples the note and throws it to the side.

“Connor.”

“But none of that matters because we had a deal!”

“Connor!”

“Sorry…” he murmurs. “She just…makes me a little crazy.”

“I can see that.” Chloe chuckles, as Connor focuses on getting his breathing under control. “Can I just say one thing, Con?”

“Whatever.”

“She’s good for you. Please don’t let her go.”

* * *

North adjusts her sunglasses. She refuses to show weakness in front of this man, which means not allowing to see how red and puffy her eyes are.

“So what happens next?” North asks.

“Well, now that you’re leaving willingly, this all becomes very easy. Once we get back to Detroit, you have twenty four hours to get all your affairs in order and head back to Canada.”

* * *

Connor rushes past his family, barely sparing them a glance. 

“Connor, what’s going on?” Carl demands.

“I’ve got to talk to her.” 

“Con, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Leo attempts to grab his arm, but Connor easily shrugs out of his grip.

“Yeah, I don’t care.”

“Boys!” Carl yells. “Stop it!”

“I can’t let you do this!” Leo snaps.

“It’s a good thing I’m not asking your permission then!”

“Stop it, boys!” Carl sounds oddly strained, but Connor is focused on getting Leo off his back.

“Dad!” Kara is suddenly shrieking. “Boys!” Connor whips back around. Carl is doubled over in his chair, clutching his heart.

“Dad!” the brothers shout in unison, racing back over to him.

“Can someone get a doctor!?” Markus shouts.

They wait with bated breath until the emergency plane lands several minutes later. Carl’s wheelchair is folded up as he’s moved onto a stretcher. It’s a tight fit, but the paramedics allow the siblings to ride with him.

It’s an agonizing couple of minutes, where everything is still. All of them barely breathing.

Shakily, slowly, Carl reaches up and pulls his mask off. Leo nudges Connor to get his attention. 

“You two need to stop fighting…” Carl manages. “You’ll never see eye-to-eye, but you’re family.” he reaches over, and Leo and Markus simultaneously grip his hand. “Leo, promise me you’ll stand by Connor, even if you don’t agree with him.”

“I promise.” Markus hasn’t seen Leo cry since they were kids. It’s almost strange to see it now.

“Connor, promise me you’ll try harder to be a part of this family.”

“I promise Dad.”

“Well then.” Carl lays back, closes his eyes. “The Lord can take me now.”

Everything goes still. Carl doesn’t move. Leo lets out the quietest of sobs, and Connor hangs his head in defeat.

Carl’s eyes snap open.

“Huh. I guess He’s not ready for me.” shrugging, Carl pushes himself up on his arms. “I’m feeling much better. No need to take us to the hospital, son. Take us to the airport.”

What…the actual…hell!?

“Dad, what the hell are you doing, faking a heart attack!?” Leo demands.

“You’re nuts!” Connor tells him.

While Connor and Leo are trying to stop freaking out, Markus is gaping, seemingly amused, and Kara and Seamus are openly _laughing._

Assholes.

“Well it was the only way to get you two to shut up, and get us to the airport!” Carl grins.

“Mr. Manfred, we’re not authorized to take you to the airport.” the paramedic steps in.

“Young man, don’t make me call your mother!”

In the end, they head to the airport.

* * *

North curls in on himself, on the plane.

“You should’ve given up back in Detroit.” Allen tells her. North wishes he’d just shut up already. “See, I’m like John Wick. I always accomplish my mission.”

North doesn’t even have the energy to deliver a biting retort, like how Connor is more John Wick than Allen could ever hope to be.

* * *

For once, Connor is glad that their airport is so tiny. He’s glad that he knows everyone in this town. He’s not glad, however, that the plane is about to take off. 

“Shit, no.” hurriedly, he dials a number he knows by heart.

“Go for Josh.” 

“Josh, hey! I need you to stop that plane!”

“No can do. Sorry, Con.”

“Josh, North's on that plane!” Connor glares up at the window he knows his old high school friend is turned away from.

“Oh, yeah. Heard about your girlfriend bailing. I’m sorry, man.”

The plane soars past him.

“No, come on! Fuck!”

“What’s happening?” Leo asks from behind him.

“North was on that plane.” Carl tells him sadly. “He was going to tell her he loves her. So North could tell Connor she loves him too.”

“I don’t…”

“Leo, if North didn’t love him she wouldn’t have left.” Kara says. “Obviously."

“I’m so lost…”

“…this is why your’re going to die alone.” Markus grumbles.

“Hey!”

Connor stares helplessly at the plane. There’s nothing he can do, now.

“Josh, look down!” a figure appears in the window, and Josh throws an arm up.

“Oh, there you are. Sorry, Connor, there was nothing I could do!”

“It’s fine, Josh. Sorry to bother you.” Connor ends the call, sighs in defeat. It can’t just…be over. Not like this.

“I’m sorry Con…” Leo tells him. “I didn’t know how you felt about him.” 

Connor doesn’t have the strength to respond.

“It’s gonna be okay, Con.” Seamus assures. He takes Connor’s hand in his own, giving it a squeeze.

But Connor isn’t sure that it is.

* * *

As per usual, everyone in the office avoids North as she packs up his office. But nobody averts their gaze. There she is, the infamous North, accepting defeat. Gavin, reinstated for the occasion, leans in the doorway of his office, smirking at her from across the way. North simply refuses to meet his eye. When she nearly drops a box on her feet, Gavin openly laughs at her. Everyone else scatter like rats.

She brought this on herself.

“Chris, hey.” the box is quite heavy, but North refuses to sacrifice his dignity as she walks over to the younger man. “I need you to send the boxes in my office to this address.” she struggles in handing over the piece of paper with her new address written on it. It’s…far away from where her father lives. She doesn’t wish to even chance running into him.

“Uh…” Chris seems distracted, staring at something behind North. Probably some asshole making fun of her. “Sure…”

“Thank you.”

“Ms. Mills?”

“What?” North doesn’t have the time for this. She huffs and turns around to look where Chris points, only to freeze right there.

“…Connor.” no, no, this wasn’t supposed to happen. “Why are you panting?” is all she can think to say.

“Because I’ve been running.”

“Oh, from Alaska?” it’s a weak attempt at normalcy. 

“I need to talk to you.” 

No. North can’t do this right now.

“Well, I don’t have time to talk, Connor. I need to catch a flight to Montreal.” North turns around, hardening her expression as she sets the box down. She won’t show weakness, she won’t. “I need those boxes to go out today, if you could—,”

“North! Stop talking!” Connor shouts. North flinches, and the entire office goes still. Slowly, North allows herself to turn around. “I need you to listen.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? Good.” Connor pauses to catch his breath. “Three days ago, I loathed you. I used to dream about you getting hit by a car or poisoned.”

“Oh. That’s nice, Con.”

“Yeah, I told you to stop talking.” North reluctantly shuts her mouth. “But we had our little adventure up in Alaska, and things changed, North.” Connor holds his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Things changed when we kissed, when you told me about your family, about your tattoo. Things changed when I opened up to you.” despite the situation, North feels her cheeks heat up when Gavin lets out a particularly loud snort. “But I didn’t realize any of this until I was standing alone, in a barn, wifeless.” Connor takes a step forward. “Now you can imagine my disappointment when I realized, that the woman I love is about to be kicked out of the country.” another step. “And, also, I thought you might want this back.”Oh, God, he’s actually kneeling, and offering that same ring she’d given to him less than twenty four hours ago. “So North…marry me. Because I want to be with you. And I think you want to be with me, too.”

It’s a tempting offer. It really is.

But it’s one North has to refuse.

“Trust me.” her voice is barely above a whisper. “You really don’t want to be with me.”

“Yes, I do.”

“See, the thing is, Connor,” North takes a second to clear her throat. “I don’t want to hurt you, and…there’s a reason I’ve been alone all this time.” she shrugs. “I’m comfortable that way. So, I think it would just be easier if we were to just forget everything that happened, and I just leave.”

He’s still on one knee, in front of her.

“You’re right.” Connor says, taking her hands. “That would be easier.” 

North finds it impossible to tear her eyes away from Connor’s.

“…I’m scared.” she admits.

“Yeah.” Connor nods. “Me too.”

So he does the obvious thing. She says,

“Well, are you going to put the ring on my finger or not?”

His grin is absolutely _blinding_. 

“So.” he says, as he slips it on her finger. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”

When he stands, when they kiss, North thinks that she never wants this to end.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see you hopefully tomorrow ^^;


End file.
